Shattered
by i1976
Summary: "I put myself in the hands of the Lord and He put me in the hands of the Dukes and...you couldn't get a better combination than that." L.A. spitted Enos out after shattering him during his brief experience there; he's in the Dukes' caring hands, now, and they'll never betray him. A story about integrity, duty and friendship. A story about Hazzard. MORE IN MY PROFILE PAGE.
1. Prologue

**PROLOGUE**

"You're kidding, aren't you?," Daisy opened her eyes wide, unable to believe in Enos' words.

"I'm sorry, Dais. But... it's NOT your business."

"NOT my business? Enos Strate, since you came back from L.A. you're not yourself anymore! Drunk! Yesterday evening you were DRUNK! And you had a fight with Bo and Luke. YOU! It's... absurd, so stop sayin' it's not my business."

Enos closed his eyes and he had a deep sigh, trying to ease his headache, "Yeah, I know... but... Daisy, I'm sorry, OK? I didn't want to quarrel with Bo and Luke, and.. I didn't want to ... get drunk!"

"Oh, yeah, the beer entered your mouth without your permission, I suppose," anger and sarcasm in Daisy's voice, now her arms folded in her typical way when she got angry.

Another deep breath, "It happened, I'm sorry."

"It happened 'cause you're strange after 6 months you spent in L.A. for that sort of training. What did it happen to you in L.A.? I KNOW something happened, and it's why you're acting this way," deep and deep anger in her voice.

"Chief Broggi simply asked me if I wanted to go to L.A. for a training, to gain experience. Just 6 months, and I decided to use this occasion. You should know how much I love my job, Dais, and reaching L.A.P.D. for the second time, just only for 6 months, it's a great opportunity, for me," his voice tired as he fought against his headache.

Daisy had a deep sigh and she shook her head, her arms still folded: he didn't answer her question. She couldn't believe in his words, she couldn't believe he was so stubborn to hide what happened to him in L.A., 'cause it was pretty obvious something happened, something really serious.

The man in front of her wasn't Enos. He was Enos but at the same time he wasn't Enos.

Enos would have NEVER got drunk, Enos would have NEVER had a fight with anybody (especially with Bo and Luke). She observed him: he wasn't Enos; he was thinner and somehow sad, a strange sadness in his eyes and features instead of his usual wide smiles and sparkling eyes.

His hat in his hands, he blushed and he looked down at his fidgeting fingers: he was still Enos, after all, but Daisy couldn't help but wondering what happened to him in L.A., her heart stirring and her rage turning into worrisome.

And from the kitchen's window, looking at Enos and Daisy's speaking, Bo, Luke and uncle Jesse too were wondering about Enos' time in L.A. In effect, Dukes were wondering about it since Enos' coming back, only two weeks before, the big city spitting their best friend out after shattering him for 6 months, its teeth marking him.

* * *

**A challenge on Hazzardnet: write a story with Enos drunk. An idea floating in my mind for a long time, so I've finally decided to have a try and to face this challenge, coupling this challenge with another idea floating in my mind for a long time (I've always loved to imagine Enos in L.A., bein' a cop in that violent big city, a city that could hurt him very easily).**


	2. Blood's smell

**BLOOD'S SMELL**

"Gotta go now, or Mr. Hogg will fire me," Enos put his hat on and walked to his patrol car, leaving Daisy there, her arms still folded, the only thing she could do being looking at the car, a cloud of dust behind it as he drove away.

She turned and walked to the farm: she failed. Again, as the previous evening, she didn't manage to get over the wall Enos built around him after his coming back from L.A.

* * *

_THE PREVIOUS EVENING_

"There's something wrong with him," Daisy stood up, her dish in her hands, putting it in the sink and washing it.

The same talking in the last two weeks at Dukes' table during dinner, the same talking during breakfast, too; her back against the cupboard, wiping her hands, Daisy kept on talking, "He didn't even eat lunch I brought him. He said he wasn't hungry. And he should eat, since he's clearly too much slim, a lot thinner than when he left."

"Daisy, you're talking like a mommy who's worried for her child," Bo smiled, trying to calm her down, "you said that he was thin two years ago too, when he came back from L.A., didn't you? Luke and I were away because of NASCAR circuit, so we didn't see him at that time and we can't notice any difference between now and two years ago, but maybe you're worrying too much, WE're worrying too much. Life in L.A. is different, different food, different rhythm, and for sure Enos worked a lot, there."

"Yeah, he was thin, then, but now it's different! It's not only about his weight. It's about his … general look. He's different. He's sad… and worried… and I don't know what else. You and Luke too told you were surprised when you went to the airport to bring him back home, two weeks ago."

Bo looked at Luke, and his older cousin looked down at the table; they couldn't pretend they weren't shocked that day, only two weeks before, when they saw Enos, at the airport, coming back after his staying in L.A. during the previous 6 months. He was thinner and he was "different" about "his general look", as Daisy told: serious, sad and lost in his thoughts, sort of ghost of their best friend.

"Something happened to him, for sure, and it's why his letters were shorter and shorter, 'till he stopped to write me back, nearly two months before his coming back. I should have realized, since then…," she shook her head.

Enos' letters: another leitmotif, something Daisy kept on wondering about during those days. During his first staying in L.A., Enos used to write a letter every week, long letters to Daisy, telling her about his life in L.A., whereas along his last staying his letters became shorter and shorter along the months (especially after the first month, being the excuse of that shortness his hard work and his few free time) to stop abruptly nearly two months before his coming back, then his last letter (few lines) the week before his arrival, just to tell he was coming back. At that time Daisy was disappointed and angry of his behaviour, not much worried since he never talked about something wrong or some problem in his letters (and Daisy preferred to believe in his being too much occupied with his job than to think something was wrong), but worrisome slapped her when she saw him the day of his arrival, so the shortness of those letters and the abrupt pause acquired a different meaning, a darker meaning.

Being honest to herself, Daisy was disappointed not only because of Enos' shorter and shorter letters during his staying in L.A., but also because of his decision to go to L.A., for starter. But she didn't want to admit it to herself, better not to think about it, smothering her sense of guilty: if she hadn't been angry to Enos because of his decision to go to L.A., she'd have read his behaviour in a different way, not believing so easily to his "hard work", not finding, instead, another reason to be angry to him beside his leaving; if she hadn't been angry to Enos because of his decision to go to L.A., she would have worried because of those shorter and shorter letters, finding a way to understand what's going on and to help him: rage blinded her, preventing her to see what she had to see.

And the reason of her rage when he decided to go to L.A. was…

… Big sigh, "I gotta go to the Boar's Nest, now. I have to work."

"See you later," Luke stood up as Daisy left, helping uncle Jesse to do the dishes; they asked Enos to meet them at the Boar's Nest, that evening, in order to talk and to understand what's going on with him, so Bo and Luke would have reached Daisy at the Boar's Nest later, after helping their uncle.

Driving her jeep, Daisy kept on fighting back her sense of guilty, sense of guilty because of her rage to Enos during his staying in L.A., a pointless sense of guilty 'cause she knew her rage wasn't responsible of whatever happened to Enos in L.A., obviously, and, beside, even if she had worried instead of been angry she wouldn't have known how to find out what's going on and how to help him.

Wouldn't she have known any way to find out what's going on and to help him? Stopping her jeep in front of the Boar's Nest, Daisy tried to convince herself that even if she had worried for him instead of been angry to him, nothing would have changed, she wouldn't have spared him whatever happened to him, she couldn't have stopped whatever happened to him.

If she hadn't been angry to him when he left Hazzard… And the reason of that rage was…

When she entered the Boar's Nest, she froze, her eyes and her mouth wide open.

Enos sat there, his arms folded on the counter and his head resting on his arms, near him a beer mug. And the coupling of Enos and a beer mug was something Daisy wasn't waiting for.

Daisy looked at the bartender, a questioning look, and Bob answered her.

"Three. This is his third beer."

Speechless, Daisy came closer Enos, who seemed asleep, his head on his folded arms.

"It doesn't work," no, we wasn't sleeping, he kept his eyes closed but he was awake, "It doesn't work. People say beer helps you to forget, but it doesn't work," his voice soft and his speech a bit slurred, "I've forgot nothing."

Daisy held her breath, saddened by his words but at the same time realizing it was a great opportunity to know what happened to him; she felt ashamed because of what she was going to do, it was like taking advantage of that temporary lowering of his defenses whereas she should have comforted him (simply hugging him), but she couldn't waste that occasion.

"Oh sugar," her hand gently caressing his nape, "what are you trying to forget? Poor Enos, was it so terrible?" and her usual tone when she was trying to worn an information out of him, a sweet and flattering tone; a flirting tone coupled with a soft touch, something that usually confused Enos to the point he blurted out everything. How many times did she use that trick to worn information about Boss and Rosco's plans out of him? It usually worked.

Usually… It worked, probably, when Enos WANTED to blurt out everything.

He opened his eyes, looking at her as he was trying to focus her, "Hey Dais. I think I should go back to the Boarding House and have a looooong sleep. Don't you think? Beer is not for me," he chuckled and he stood up, his hand grabbing her shoulder as soon as he stood up, in order to regain his balance, "WOW. Everything's swinging."

"I think you shouldn't drive your car, now, sugar," she gently put her arms around his waist, "Bo and Luke are going to bring you back to the Boarding House."

Like if they heard her silent prayers, Bo and Luke entered the Boar's Nest, on their face a questioning and surprised look.

"Bo, Luke, please, Enos is drunk," words so stunning Daisy wondered if she wasn't dreaming, "bring him to the Boarding House with the General. He can't drive, actually."

The blonde and the brown cousin looked at each other before to come closer Enos, their arms taking the place of Daisy's one as they helped Enos to walk outside the Boar's Nest.

Daisy had a deep sigh, her right hand covering her face and a brief shaking of her head to show her shock.

And her shock grew even more when Cooter, just arrived, entered the Boar's Nest in a rush, "Daisy, they're having a fight."

Cooter's appearance and his words were so surprising Daisy didn't even understand what he was saying, "Fighting? WHO?" thinking of one of the usual brawls at the Boar's Nest.

"Enos! with Bo and Luke. Enos punched Bo and Luke punched Enos to stop him."

"WHAT?" Daisy ran outside, another surreal scene in front of her: Bo, an handkerchief on his nose, was trying to stop the bleeding; Enos was sitting near the General, his back against the car, his breath heavy and his eyes closed, a bruise on his left cheek; Luke was standing near Enos, opening and closing his right hand in order to check everything was OK with it after the punch, a violent punch, obviously, to knock Enos out.

"Bo, Luke! For God's sake, what's happening?"

"Enos stumbled, and when Bo grabbed him to stop his falling, he punched Bo. I had to stop Enos, one way or another, I would have preferred not to punch him, but I had no choice," Luke's terse answer.

Bob put a hand on Daisy's shoulder, "You have to work, now, so, please, come in. Your cousins are able to take care of themselves and of Enos."

Daisy was going to answer Bob with a not at all gentle answer but Luke stopped her, "Bob's right, Daisy, we're going to bring Enos to the Boarding House and to check everything's OK," he nodded, his eyes firmly on Daisy, "Don't worry."

Entering the Boar's Nest, Daisy wondered how she could stay calm.

* * *

Entering the farm after Enos' leaving, Daisy looked at Bo, his nose swollen and two bruises under his eyes, in a raccoon-look. She shook her head.

"Did he say something?"

Daisy turned to her uncle and she answered him, "No, he simply said he was sorry because of yesterday," she walked to the couch and she sank into it.

"Yeah, he said he's sorry at least…. twenty times," Bo had a deep sigh. Enos came to the farm, early in that morning, before to go to work, just to tell Bo and Luke he was sorry because of what happened the previous evening, but he didn't explained WHY it happened, despite Daisy's attempt before he left. And the previous evening Bo and Luke's attempts too failed: they managed only to bring him to the Boarding House, helping him to undress and to go to sleep, and waiting there 'till he fell asleep. No words from him except of "I'm sorry, I'm really sorry."

She was worried, and she was angry, angry to Enos (because of being offish and rejecting) and angry to herself because of her rage. What strange thing, being angry because of her own anger.

And her rage was because … she felt rejected, since Enos' decision to go to L.A. for six months, without involving her in his decision. She wanted to be involved in his life.

She felt rejected 'cause she wanted to be involved in his life, and she wanted to be involved in his life 'cause …. she loved him. She couldn't stand that, few after their nearly wedding, he decided to leave Hazzard (and her) because of his job, his job above her: his job was her only rival, it's always been her rival.

But, first of all, she didn't stand he decided to stop the wedding because of the hives, what a stupid reason.

And after his leaving, that incomprehensible rage prevented her to understand the real meaning of that anger, blinding her more and more. Until his coming back: his sight slapped her, blowing out her rage and let her understand what she'd have understood since the beginning.

* * *

_LOS ANGELES - FLASHBACK_

Entering the bathroom of the Police Department, bathed in sweat (and not because of L.A.'s heat in that April), Enos washed his hands, tingeing water of red as it flowed in the sink's drain.

When the water finally lost its scary shade, he knelt down, his forehead against the cold steel of the sink, he closed his eyes and he tried to control his breath.

"Hey Strate," the door closed behind his colleague entering the bathroom, "it happens. It's a violent city, and we have to be careful, protecting ourselves… and protecting each other as more as possible."

The second colleague, kneeling by his side, squeezed gently his shoulder, "We're like big family, you know. We are us against them."

The third colleague stood still, his hands in his pockets, "That bastard had a gun."

Enos kept his eyes closed: he didn't see the gun. He didn't see any gun! How could it happen? How something like that could happen? If he had seen the gun, would things have been different?

His colleagues left him alone, respecting his need of silence and loneliness.

After several minutes he stood up and he washed his face with fresh water, but he stopped when a rush of nausea overwhelmed him; his hands still smelled of that sweetish, dense, sticky and stifling smell: blood's smell.


	3. Wheels' creaking

**WHEELS' CREAKING **

Daisy knocked at the apartment's door.

No answer.

She grabbed the doorknob in what she thought a vain attempt, but surprisingly she found out the door was open.

Curled up on his bed, Enos slept peacefully, his uniform still on, except of his hat, tie and shoes: his hat and tie were on the couch, whereas his shoes were on the floor near the bed, everything in a messy way instead of his usual tidy way, as he undressed himself in a rush before to collapse on the bed.

Daisy took a deep breath and she sat on a chair, her eyes carefully on Enos.

Sitting there, her breath and her heartbeat slowing down after her run to Enos' apartment, she recollected in her mind Rosco and Lulu's words, words responsible of her running to Enos' place.

A week already passed since the evening he got drunk at the Boar's Nest, a calm and boring week, spent working at the Boar's Nest, helping uncle Jesse at the farm and trying to meet Enos, few and brief meetings as he hid himself behind his work, but normal meetings, after all: he came from time to time at the Boar's Nest, drinking his usual buttermilk (no more beer for him), eating sandwiches Daisy prepared for him (with " mommy" Daisy's relief) and talking about everything but not his time in L.A. (with Daisy's disappointment).

She was nearly calming down, repeating to herself that she couldn't force him to talk about L.A. (he was his business, in effect, he was right about it), and, beside, he seemed better and better since his arrival: less lost in his thoughts, more cheerful, and with a growing appetite.

She was forgetting about L.A., avoiding that topic with him and focusing only on present time: whatever happened to him in L.A., if he had showed her to forget about it and to come back to his old self, she too would have forgot about it, respecting his silence, despite her disappointment because his not involving her in his life. She could stand that disappointment, for Enos' sake.

She was forgetting about L.A., until that day.

She remembered Rosco's words, words about "Enos' weakness and need of rest", so that day Rosco told him to go to the Boarding House and rest a bit; she remembered Rosco talking about how Enos seemed weak and out of breath, lately, to the point he barely managed to do the things he usually did; she remembered Rosco telling her Enos visited Doc Appleby three times since his arrival in Hazzard (he knew it from his sister Lulu, nothing could escape from Lulu Hogg).

So, in that quiet and normal afternoon, her worst fears and her willing to know what happened to Enos in L.A. woke up, after her casual meeting with Rosco and his strange verbosity (but probably the Sheriff was worrying for Enos as everybody did, so he was trying to know something more about his dipstick's condition); Enos having rest in the afternoon because of "weakness and shortness of breath" (as Rosco said) and his visiting Doc Appleby several times in three weeks (the last time he visited Doc Appleby was five years before, because of appendicitis) were things Daisy couldn't underestimate, and it was the reason why she ran to Enos' place soon after her talk with Rosco.

And Enos was there, "having rest" (as Rosco said).

Sitting on the chair, Daisy observed him, wondering if she had to wake him up or not, but his look was so pitiful (he seemed really tired, and he slept really deeply) she decided to let him sleep, spending her time there (no way she would have left him alone until his awakening) pondering on the reason of that weakness and visiting Doc Appleby (picturing various scenarios, dreadful scenarios, in her mind) and looking around in that small room to find some useful evidences.

In her looking for evidences, something caught immediately her eyes: on the night table near the bed there was a little orange bottle, and Daisy knew what it was.

She stood up and she took that bottle: no doubt about it, she was right, Vicodin, a painkiller she knew pretty well, since her aunt Lavinia needed it during her last months before she died. Daisy's mouth became dry and her hands gently trembled as a new, scaring and surprising scenario surfaced in her febrile mind.

Enos had a deep sigh and rolled on his back, keeping on sleeping. In that position, looking carefully at him, she could better realize his thinnest: her eyes lingered on his chest and belly, his chest showing too much his ribs under the shirt and his belly too much flat, more hollow than flat.

She put down the Vicodin's bottle and she sat down, again, worrisome and rage driving her crazy: she was worried, and angry, again, because of his rejecting her, leaving her out of his life.

Overwhelmed by her rage, impatience and worrisome, she grabbed his pillow and she pulled it, so his head, without the pillow's stay, fell on the mattress with a thud, and he suddenly sat up, awake, looking around in confusion.

His clear confusion and abrupt awake made Daisy blush, and she regretted her childish and unfair gesture.

"Possum on a gum bush, Dais," he finally realized her presence.

"I'm sorry, Enos. I knocked at the door but you didn't answer, so I entered. The door was open. You were sleeping and…" pitiful attempt to mask her childish behaviour, blabbing total nonsense.

"And did you decide to wake me up this way?", no rage in his voice but surprise as he massaged his neck, "Ouch."

Daisy lowered her head, looking down at the pillow on her lap, "You're right, I'm sorry. I should have woken you up in a kinder way… or I should have let you sleep a little more". Her rage and her hot temper were things she had to learn to deal with: men of her family knew it pretty well, especially Bo and Luke, whose faces met several times her hand, not gentle meetings, whereas she's never slapped Enos (he was too sweet to awake that burning and incontrollable rage). But she had to admit there was a time Enos sometimes got on her nerve because of his naivety and especially because of his integrity; Daisy knew Enos would have arrested her or her cousins or even uncle Jesse if he had REALLY thought they were guilty of a crime, no matter what, his duty above everything, even if doing his duty was painful to him: his putting his duty above all and everyone (her too) was the thing of him she hated the most, at that time (so she was sometimes nasty to him) and only along the years she started to appreciate that integrity and total honesty, finding in it a value and no more a fault, and, maybe, starting to love him also because of it.

Still massaging his neck Enos looked at the clock, 3 P.M., "No, it's time to get up, I slept enough," he got up and he walked to the kitchen corner, drinking a glass of water.

She decided to have a try. She had to know something more, and since he didn't want to talk spontaneously about his staying in L.A., she had to use a little trick in order to worn something out of him: pretend to know in order to let him believe she already knew something (his defenses down because he thought she already knew). A trick Dukes used sometimes with Enos, and it usually worked… if they managed to let him believe they already knew everything.

A hazard. She recollected her scenarios about the reason of his weakness and use of Vicodin and she had a try.

"Enos, how much did you stay in Hospital?"

Obviously his staying in Hospital was only a possibility, but if she was right… She held her breath, looking at him turning to her, his mouth open wide.

"How do you know I stayed in Hospital 'cause of…?"

She got it: he stayed in Hospital (as she supposed, she guessed right), and he was going to reveal the reason, his defenses down 'cause he thought she already knew a lot of things about it. It worked…. usually.

He stopped, looking carefully at her, "Daisy Duke," his hands on his hips, his shoulders stiff and his chin up, the self-confident cop's posture, the one he used when he had to mask his shy and sweet nature in front of criminals or suspected criminals; but Daisy wasn't a criminal he had to scare or he had to gain respect from, and his shy and sweet nature came back with a gentle blushing and lowering his head, "Daisy, you're really clever. Ok, now you know I stayed in Hospital, but don't ask me anything else, OK? I've already told you it's not your business"

"_I stayed in Hospital 'cause…"_

'Cause WHAT?

Daisy bit her lip, disappointed by his guessing her trick. She looked at him wearing his tie and sitting on the bed to pull on his shoes; she looked at the Vicodin's bottle on the night table and her heart raced in her chest, remembering aunt Lavinia. She had to know, or that doubt would have killed her.

"Enos, please, just tell me if you are ill… I mean… a serious illness. When you stayed in L.A. did you find out you're ill? And is it the reason of Vicodin and of your visiting Doc Appleby?". She told it, her cheeks burning and her eyes open wide to force her tears back.

"Sick? Oh my God, Daisy, NO! I'm not sick," he looked at the orange bottle and he shook his head, "I supposed someone told you about my visits to Doc Appleby," and he sighed, "it's because… I was injured, that's all, police business," he stood up, heading to the door, "so stop thinking of strange things."

Injured: beside a bad illness, a bad injury was the other scenario Daisy created in her mind, the most probable scenario, and Enos confessed it to her just 'cause he saw her so scared about a possible illness; after Enos' confession she relaxed a bit, 'cause an injury was something better than a bad illness (it was something about the past, something to recover from, whereas a severe illness would have affected his future… and her future… in an unforeseeable way), but her relaxing was quickly replaced by the desire to know what kind of injury, exactly, and how it happened.

"How? When?"

On the way to the door he stopped, turning to her, "Daisy, PLEASE, I don't want to talk about it. It's the PAST. Look at me, " he opened his arms, "I'm alive, I'm fine and I'm goin' to be finer and finer, I sleep, I work, I eat, I drink," a brief pause, his cheeks red", I drink… I mean…water and buttermilk. I'm OK! So, PLEASE, stop being obsessed by it. I've forgot it, I've forgot what happened and I want only to live the present time."

"_It doesn't work. People say beer helps you to forget, but it doesn't work"_

He obviously didn't remember his words when he was drunk, but she remembered it pretty well. Whatever happened to him, it was probably something really serious, affecting his body and his mind.

She remained sitting on the chair, looking at him leaving.

"When you leave, give the key to Miss Marple. And, if you have the notion to ransack this room, detective Daisy Duke, well, you'll find nothing else beside that bottle," he turned his head to her, gently smiling and with a pitch of teasing in his voice, his typical way to avoid any further pesky talk (hiding himself behind a innocent humor).

Daisy threw the pillow against the closing door, "Enos Strate, you are IMPOSSIBLE!"

Ransacking the room: he gave her a good idea.

Detective Daisy Duke stood up, ready for her investigation: not fair ransacking someone's else room, but she had no choice since Enos didn't want to talk to her about what happened to him; moreover, Enos gave her that idea.

* * *

Ransacking failed. Nothing interesting there, beside that Vicodin's bottle: Enos was right.

So, detective Daisy Duke turned into housekeeper/mommy Daisy Duke, tidy up Enos' place: when did he become so messy, for God's sake, even worse than Bo and Luke? For sure was because of that "weakness", too.

After her work, she collapsed on Enos' bed and she closed her eyes, falling asleep.

She didn't know how much she slept, and the mattress's gentle swinging woke her up as Enos sat on the bed.

"Hey Daisy," his eyes lingered on the shining floor, "did you… wash the floor?", incredulity in his voice.

She sat up, "I tidied up everything. When did you become so messy, Enos?"

"Did you REALLY wash the floor? Did you REALLY tidy up?", he stood up and he walked to the closet, opening its drawers, "my drawers too? Even my…. unmetionables?", again that teasing but innocent and sweet tone.

She blushed furiously, looking away, "Uh, well, but I didn't lust. Honestly."

He looked at her, remembering that same silly dialogue, many years before, now inverted, and he smiled, his smiling turning, with Daisy's surprise, into a genuine laugh.

He was laughing, and Daisy laughed with him, forgetting her worrisome and fears.

"It's time to go, now, or uncle Jesse and the boys will worry", she got up and she walked to the door.

Her hand already on the doorknob he stopped her, "Daisy, thanks. I appreciate what you've done."

She turned to him, "Oh sugar, I did nothing. Anyway, tidy up is not a problem, I'm used to do it, living with three men."

"I'm not talking about tidy up. I'm talking about your bein' so sweet and caring to me… and about your worrying for me," he blushed and he looked at the floor.

Daisy blushed, grateful for his thanking her.

"Anyway, if you like so much tidy up, well, you're welcome, here," he looked up at her, a teasing smile on his face.

"Oh Enos, you're really something else," she burst out laughing and she left, "Bye," refreshed by that relaxed and friendly talking.

He was Enos, her sweet and funny Enos, and maybe Bo was right, she was worrying too much about what happened to him in L.A.: maybe it wasn't so terrible.

* * *

_LOS ANGELES – FLASHBACK_

The stretcher's wheels creaked on the E.R.'s floor, that creaking piercing Enos' ears, as the lamps on the ceiling blinded him. In his nostrils still the pungent and nauseating smell of tires' burning.

He laid on the stretcher, and he didn't know how many bones were broken (for sure many bones), and he feared the problem was not only his broken bones, since his internal organs couldn't be better of his bones. He was dying: he couldn't move his arms and legs, he could barely breathe, his belly ached, a burning pain, and he was feeling sick. He was dying.

After a long corridor the stretcher entered a wide room, and he was shifted from the stretcher to a bed, that shift provoking pain in every part of his body, but he managed only to moan.

The last thing he remembered was the touch of several hands stripping him.

In his ear Daisy's pure laugh, _"Oh Enos, you're really something else,"_ his desperate attempt to grab his life slipping away.

* * *

******Attention, please: flashbacks are "scattered" (no temporal sequence). **


	4. Smoke

**SMOKE**

"Vicodin?"

Uncle Jesse looked at Daisy, so surprised he stopped eating his dinner. He preferred to forget that name, 'cause that name remembered him his beloved Lavinia and her last days.

"It's a strong pain-killer," uncle Jesse looked down at his plate, moving the food with the fork, thoughtfully.

"He said he stayed in the Hospital for a while, but I don't know how much, because he was injured during his job, but I don't know what kind of injury," Daisy tried to resume to her family Enos' words, in their usual talking around the kitchen's table during dinner: "sharing" was one of the favorite word, at the farm, especially if it meant finding a way to help their friends.

"For sure a pretty bad injury, since he needs Vicodin for pain," Bo rested gently his fork in his plate, as he was losing his appetite, "poor Enos. Probably it happened when he stopped writing you. Nearly two months before his coming back."

Bo got it. In effect it was something Daisy already thought of: that abrupt stopping of Enos' letters could be the consequence of his injury and of his staying in Hospital, a really bad injury to "block" him for nearly two months. Daisy had a deep sigh, fighting back again that sense of guilty: during those two months she was angry to him, thinking he was so busy with his job to forget about her, whereas he was in Hospital. Enos' staying in Hospital explained the pause in his letters but not why the letters became shorter and shorter before that "forced" pause.

"I remember a friend of us, when we raced in NASCAR circuit: he had a bad car wreck during a race, both legs broken and a severe head trauma so he stayed in Hospital for a long time, and after he left the Hospital he needed Vicodin, a lot of Vicodin, for his pain," Bo kept on talking, moving the plate away from him, his appetite totally gone, his mind matching his friend injured during a race and Enos (injured he didn't know how).

"And maybe his weakness is because of Vicodin. Whatever happened to him, Enos should have more rest and not to force himself to do the things he usually did. He can't work all day long every day, with no pause, and I'm glad Rosco understood it," Luke looked carefully at Daisy, "and since he's using Vicodin, I hope he's not goin' to drink beer any more. It's dangerous."

"And not only for him, but also dangerous for us. Look at my nose," Bo tried to draw out the clear tension and worrisome in the kitchen.

"I don't think Enos is goin' to drink alcohol again. I don't think alcohol is a problem with him. I think the problem is why he got drunk, that evening. He told me he forgot about L.A. and he's goin' to be finer and finer, but I feel that whatever happened to him it affected not only his body but also his mind." After leaving Enos' place, only few hours before, Daisy felt relieved because of his laughing and joking with her, but along the road to the farm, in her jeep, Daisy couldn't help to think again to a lot of dreadful scenarios about Enos' injury: she wanted to believe in Enos' words _("I'm alive, I'm fine and I'm goin' to be finer and finer, I sleep, I work, I eat, I drink_. _I'm OK! So, PLEASE, stop being obsessed by it. I've forgot it, I've forgot what happened and I want only to live the present time"),_ she wanted to believe in those words so badly, but she felt something was wrong with him. His stubbornness in hiding what happened to him in L.A. scared her.

"Anyway, we're goin' to keep an eye on him. So, don't worry, Dais. You're not alone in your taking care of Enos."

Daisy nodded and smiled to her older cousin, grateful of her family comprehension and help.

* * *

Left knee. It was the turn of his left knee: the pain was pulsating and radiated along his leg, making him limp.

Enos swallowed a pill of Vicodin and he lied on his bed, waiting for its effect.

Since he left the Hospital, he was reducing the use of Vicodin: first, 'cause of pain was going better and better (or maybe he was becoming used to pain, learning to endure it), second, 'cause he didn't want to get used to Vicodin and he didn't like its collateral effects, drowsiness and shortness of breath, two things affecting his ability to do his job (or maybe drowsiness and shortness of breath weren't only Vicodin's side effects).

Anyway, that evening he couldn't avoid the use of Vicodin; it was the turn of his left knee, as it was, from time to time, the turn of his chest, head, belly, … everything, no part of his body spared from that migrating and excruciating pain.

He undressed and he crawled under the blanket, waiting for Vicodin's effect and facing that pain, heavy blows on his knee, every blow a shiver and cold sweat along his spine.

Burying his face against the pillow, he smelled Daisy's scent, and he finally fell asleep, he didn't know if because of Vicodin, because of exhaustion, or thanks of the sign of Daisy's presence in his apartment along that afternoon.

* * *

"This is Deputy Strate in hot pursuit of a robbed car, and I need help. I'm in Spruce Tree Lane."

In the General, the three cousins knew what they had to do, a perfect occasion to keep an eye on Enos, their agreement since the previous evening.

"Enos, we're nearby, we're coming," Bo answered Enos' call as Luke sped up, the General jumping a river and shortening the distance from Spruce Tree Lane, so that the orange car soon reached the patrol car in its chase of the robbed car.

From their position, behind Enos' patrol car, Dukes could see a Cedar speeding in order to escape from Enos, S-shaped bend after S-shaped band, dust rising behind the cars.

"Enos seems perfectly able to chase the robber. He's driving pretty well," Daisy tried to relax, "he doesn't want to give up." It was good. Enos was her old Enos.

But not good the gun appearing outside the Cedar's window and shooting against the patrol car. And less good the tire bursting as the patrol car missed a curve, pursuing its run in the air and falling into the pond below.

Not a strange scene in Hazzard.

As usual the General stopped, and Dukes looked at the sinking police car, waiting for Enos coming out (as many other times, waiting for Enos or Cletus or Rosco surfacing from the water).

As usual Enos came out from the car's window, but not usual his moves, slow and confused, uncharacteristic for a good swimmer as Enos: clumsy but for sure a good swimmer.

"Bo, Luke, hurry up! He's drowning!", Daisy's voice resounded inside the orange car as Bo and Luke rushed to the pond.

Walking along the bank, unable to remain still, Daisy stared at Bo and Luke reaching Enos and bringing him to the bank: was there blood in the water? Was Enos conscious?

His arms on Bo and Luke's shoulders, Enos walked outside the water, coughing and limping.

When did he start to limp? Daisy focused on Enos' left leg, looking for any sign of wound: did the robbers hit Enos' leg? Her eyes lingered all over his body, looking for blood, her heart beating furiously in her chest as she thought he was injured because of the shooting.

"Enos, sugar," she approached him as her cousins gently let him kneeling down and lying on his back, his breath heavy and his eyes closed.

"_Shortness of breath and weakness": _Rosco's words, and now she was looking at a show of those words.

"Enos," she knelt by his side, Bo and Luke near her, and she touched his shoulder, as Enos slowly opened his eyes, looking at them as they were strangers.

"PLEASE!", he tried to crawl away from them, "STOP!", his eyes lost somewhere away from there.

"Enos," Daisy gently squeezed his shoulder to stop him and to calm him down, but Luke grabbed her arm, moving it away from Enos.

"Wait, Daisy, wait," Luke's voice a whisper, his being older than Bo and Daisy and his staying in the Marines telling him it was better not to touch Enos in order to avoid a reaction like the one he had the evening he got drunk. Now Enos wasn't drunk, but he was clearly in a sort of trance.

"Enos, buddy, I'm Luke, don't worry," the brown haired Duke's voice calm and sweet, and Enos' eyes finally focused on him, recognizing him and recognizing Bo and Daisy too.

"Luke! I… I'm sorry, sorry Luke," Enos closed his eyes and he remained still, his wet uniform adhering to his body like a cold grasp despite the sunny and warm day, September day, "I think I should call Cooter to recover my car. Possum on gum bush, what a chase," his attempt to switch the talk to the present time and to the chase.

Daisy looked at Bo and Luke, and they looked at her, nodding.

"OK, Bo, come to call Cooter," and Luke walked to the General with Bo, leaving Daisy alone with Enos.

"Enos, what happened to you? Please, I'm… worried… and scared."

He opened his eyes and he looked at her, sitting up, "Daisy, please. I don't want to talk about it. It's the past. I appreciate you're worrying for me and you're taking care of me, BUT I don't want to see you so worried. Trust me, I'm fine… it's only that… this crash's confused me. Maybe I'm still a bit weak," his eyes fixed on the car in the water.

Daisy wondered if the cause of his injury in L.A. was a terrific crash, and maybe this new crash, even if without consequences, woke in him the memory of the previous one. But she couldn't understand the meaning of his words, _"please"_ and _"stop", _when she approached him.

"Cooter's coming," Bo walked near them.

"Thanks," Enos tried to stand up, with a moan, "I think I need an help to walk to the General."

Disappointed, Daisy looked at Enos, his arms on Bo and Luke's shoulders, limping between them, _"I remember a friend of us, when we raced in NASCAR circuit: he had a bad car wreck during a race, both legs broken and a severe head trauma so he stayed in Hospital for a long time, and after he left the Hospital he needed Vicodin, a lot of Vicodin, for his pain," _Bo's words resounding in her mind as she wondered, again, if Enos had a crash in L.A., maybe one of his colleague driving the car (Were "please" and "stop" his last words to his colleague before the crash?): guess after guess Daisy was more and more confused and worried.

Beside, what would have happened to Enos if her cousins hadn't been there, that day? He would have drowned, for sure.

She walked behind Enos and her cousins, shaking her head and folding her arms.

* * *

_LOS ANGELES - FLASHBACK_

_On my honor,_

_I will never betray my badge,_

_my integrity, my character, _

_or the public trust._

_I will always have_

_the courage to hold myself_

_and others accountable for our actions._

_I will always uphold the constitution_

_my community and the agency I serve._

Hate around him: they hated him just 'cause he wore a uniform, just 'cause he was a cop. He's spent his life doing his duty, no matter what, respecting that uniform, just to be hated because of that uniform and his doing his duty.

Just because of that uniform.

Betrayed uniform.

Enos walked to the barricades, his knee and elbow pads slowing down his movements, sweat dripping under his helmet and his protective suit in that hot July, even more hot because of smoke from tires' burning, a pungent and nauseating smell surrounding him.

When a stone hit his helmet he lost his balance because of that violent hit and because of his heavy equipment.

He fell on his knees as some tall men reached him, dragging him away from the crowd.


	5. Warm blanket

**WARM BLANKET**

"Is the cake ready?" Bo walked into the kitchen, inhaling the sweet scent.

"Oh yes," Daisy opened the oven, "it's ready, but you know that…"

"…that we have to wait for Enos before to eat it," Luke reached Bo and Daisy in the kitchen, "you promised him your famous apple pie and a cup of tea for snack."

"Mommy Daisy preparing a snack for sweet Enos," Bo smiled, no malice in his words but only a genuine amusement.

"Oh Bo, stop joking," Daisy laughed, throwing a dish-clot to her younger cousin.

"What's happening here?" uncle Jesse too entered the kitchen, looking at his nephews and niece.

"Daisy is defending the cake from us 'cause she wants Enos eat it all," Bo winked at his uncle, still smiling, and uncle Jesse shook his head, sighing.

A week passed since the crash and Enos' nearly drowning, and everything seemed coming back to normal in Hazzard: sunny and boring days, no other cars' thieves, no robbers, nothing, fortunately, as Dukes kept an eye on Enos. They didn't know if Enos noticed their sort of "guard" (they tried to be not intrusive), but, even if he noticed it, he didn't look bothered.

When the patrol car stopped in front of the farm, Daisy opened the kitchen's door, looking at Enos coming out the car, no more limping; he didn't limp, but he was pale and he had a tired look, as after a sleepless night.

"Hey sugar, everything's OK?" she walked to him, grabbing his arm and walking by his side, "again your leg?"

"No, my leg's OK. I simply didn't sleep very well. Is it so clear?"

"Pretty clear," she gently pinched his cheek, in a friendly way, as many time in the past, and as many times in the past he blushed, smiling shyly, "but my apple pie is goin' to cheer you up." She didn't want to show him her worrisome, remembering his words _("I don't want to see you so worried. I want only to live the present time"_). She felt he wanted to forget what happened in L.A., and the best way to help him was act as old times, as before he went to L.A.; she wanted he felt at home, no past bothering him; she wanted to know what happened to him so badly, but the more she asked him about it, the more she felt she hurt him, remembering him those days, so she was forcing herself to act as nothing happened, "living the present time" (as he told her), despite her desire to know.

"Ok, now I'm goin' to prepare tea," she walked to the kitchen, leaving him in the living room with uncle Jesse and her cousins.

Sinking into the couch, Enos put his hat off, resting it on the small table in front of the couch.

His belly's turn: it's why he didn't sleep at all during the night, despite Vicodin. He was glad Daisy didn't insist to know why he didn't sleep; he hated to see her so worried, it saddened him. He appreciated her worrisome 'cause it meant she really cared for him (as a close friend, and he was content of it) but he preferred to see her smiling and happy: it cheered him up.

Apple pie's smell. It provoked him only a pesky nausea he was trying to fight back because he didn't want to worry Daisy; he was already ashamed of what happened at the pond the week before. It scared Daisy, and it scared him too.

And a burning pain, THAT pain, unfortunately added to nausea.

Not there, not then! He didn't want Dukes (and Daisy) saw him during a crisis.

He had to find a way to go away, an excuse, but it was too late: covered in cold sweat he cuddled up on the couch, able to say only just few words, "Vicodin. It's in the car, in the dashboard. May you go and take it, please?"

Bo stood up and walked to the door, and Enos buried his face against the couch, trying to control his breath and not to moan.

Not there, not then! Not in front of Dukes. Not in front of Daisy!

"ENOS! What's happening?"

He heard her quick steps from the kitchen to the couch, and her hand caressing his damp hair, trying to calm him down. When he stayed in Hospital he dreamt of that hand, and now he wanted to run away.

With trembling hands he took the glass of water and the pill Bo was giving him, and he swallowed it, then burying again his face against the couch, fighting against that burning and pulsing pain, as a red-hot hand squeezing his guts, again and again.

"I'm going to call Doc Appleby," uncle Jesse walked to the phone.

"It's… only… a bellyache. It's not the first time. It's going to pass off, thanks Vicodin. There's no need to call Doc Appleby," his voice a whisper, not convincing since uncle Jesse phoned to Doc Appleby, explaining what's happening and asking the doctor to come to the farm. In the living room only uncle Jesse's voice, whereas Bo, Luke and Daisy seemed holding their breath.

He was drenched with cold sweat, Daisy keeping on caressing his hair and shoulders.

He didn't know how much it lasted, but when Doc Appleby arrived at the farm he was still fighting against the pain, starting to moan sort of "it hurts," despite his efforts to hide, as much as possible, his pain to Daisy, but it was a really bad crisis, one of his worst crisis, and he barely managed not to start crying, both for pain and for rage (he felt like a helpless and crying baby in front of his friends... and in front of Daisy).

"Enos, can you walk?", Doc Appleby's voice reached him in his hell, and he nodded.

Helped by uncle Jesse and Doc Appleby he walked to Bo and Luke's room, where he took off his belt and he lied down on Luke's bed; when uncle Jesse walked outside the room, closing the door, Doc Appleby started to do his job, unbuttoning Enos' shirt, rolling up his shirt's sleeve, visiting him and giving him a shot, something Enos wouldn't have let Doc Appleby do in the living room, in front of Dukes, and for sure Doc Appleby knew it, beside his correct practice based on professional confidentiality and reserve.

Enos didn't like Doc Appleby's hands on his bare belly; he closed his eyes and he tried to erase from his mind the memory of various doctors and nurses' hands on him during the long time he stayed in Hospital, day after day. He's never liked very much human touch because of his shyness, and his being visited, day after day, as he was blocked in that Hospital's bed, wasn't something he liked to recall; the mixing of shyness and pride transformed those visits in an unpleasant moment: he didn't like to depend on anybody's else, he didn't like that feeling of being like a sort of unprotected doll in front of anybody's eyes, and he was embarrassed of their touch (especially nurses' touch). And there were worse things than his staying in Hospital, things bringing him in that Hospital, things he was trying to forget, desperately.

When the pain finally started to let go, after Doc Appleby's shot, Enos sighed in relief.

"You're really stubborn, Enos. How many times do I have to tell you need to have rest? A long convalescence is what you need: rest, sleep, light and genuine food. You CAN'T work, your body can't bear it, yet."

Still on the bed, relieved from the pain but exhausted, Enos buttoned his drenched shirt, just in case Daisy or someone else decided to enter the room: he didn't want they saw the signs of his staying in Hospital.

"I can't stop, Doc. I HAVE to work 'cause it helps me to focus on… the present. I CAN'T stop."

Doc Appleby had a deep sigh, "Enos, you risked to die. Do you remember it? Do you remember what happened to you? Have I to list you your injuries, all of your injuries?"

Enos swallowed against the lump in his throat, closing his eyes and clenching his fists: no, there's no need Doc Appleby listed all his injuries, those pains were enough to remember him everything, to remember him too much.

"Sorry, I didn't want to remember you your time in Hospital," Doc Appleby caught Enos' stiffening, "now, please, stay here and have some rest."

Rest. Enos felt totally exhausted, as every time after his fight against those pains, as every time he took Vicodin (this time with the helpful add of Doc Appleby's shot, helpful on pain but not on drowsiness): he had a deep breath and he let a dark tunnel swallow him.

* * *

"How's Enos?"

Soon after Doc Appleby came out the room, Daisy walked to him.

"He's sleeping, the pain's gone, now. Let him sleep a bit, and he'll be fine."

"What happened to him? Why did he stay in Hospital? How long did he stay there?". Daisy promised to herself not to ask it to Enos in order not to hurt him (remembering him things he wanted to forget), but Doc Appleby wasn't Enos, and she wanted to know.

"Daisy Duke, do you have a clue about professional confidentiality?", Doc Appleby walked past Daisy, his bag in his hands, heading to the door, "Let him rest and keep an eye on him. Remember him he's not a robot and he has to rest. And if it happens again, call me."

Daisy folded her arms, disappointed. Doc Appleby talked about professional confidentiality the same way Enos talked about police business. They were impossible: their job above everything and everyone. WHY?

"I'm worrying for him! And I can't stand to see him this way without knowing what happened to him!"

Doc Appleby stopped and turned to Daisy, sighing, "Daisy, do you think you'd feel better if I listed you all his broken bones and about the surgical operation he was subjected to because of internal damages? It's pointless. Besides, from his medical records, I know about his staying in Hospital but not about what happened to him, exactly, before his arrival in Hospital. Traumatic injuries, a vague medical wording to explain the origin of injuries: trauma, that's all. But I don't know anything else about that trauma (maybe a crash, or a falling from an high height, or a beating), the discharge's letter reports only a vague - traumatic injuries -, focusing on injuries but not on the nature of the trauma that provoked those injuries (that's police business), and, as a doctor of a small town, the doctor who has to take care of the patient after his discharge from the Hospital, after nearly two months in Hospital, I don't need to know EXACTLY what kind of trauma he suffered but just the consequences of that trauma. I can cure him even without knowing what he faced, exactly; and Enos didn't want to talk about it, anyway, so I have to be content of the vague causative wording in the discharge letter."

Dukes held their breath, stunned by Doc Appleby's words; Doc told them more than he could say, a partial betrayal of his professional confidentiality: he told them more that he could but at the same time he told them nothing. They knew, now, Enos was hurt really badly (broken bones and internal damages) and he stayed in Hospital for nearly two months (a LONG time), but they didn't know exactly what injuries he faced, and they didn't know HOW he was injured. Doc Appleby's saying and not saying was his way to warn Dukes about Enos' condition in order to convince them to keep an eye on Enos… as if Dukes needed a reminder in order to take care of Enos.

"What injuries? What surgical operation?" Daisy wasn't content of Doc Appleby's words, the only one in the living room able to insist whereas uncle Jesse and her cousins were speechless.

"Daisy! Enos is not a child. I CAN'T break professional confidentiality; I've already talked too much. Enos knows everything, ask to him, he's not dead, and he's not in coma. He can talk, if he wants to. You don't have the right to ask me to tell you everything. Moreover, you're not a close relation of Enos, and, as I've said, he CAN talk, if he wants to."

"Enos has no close relation who can take care of him!" Daisy felt her rage rising, and with her rage her voice, "I, and only I!, am Enos' most close relation, since I LOVE him, and I'd have married him if he hadn't postponed the wedding because of his stupid hives and if he hadn't decided to go to L.A. because of his darn job!"

Her heart beating furiously in her chest and her cheeks burning, Daisy realized she just confessed her love for Enos to her family and to Doc Appleby, and she confessed also her rage because of the postponed wedding and Enos' decision to go to L.A.; again that jealousy for Enos' job, her worst rival.

Overprotective, stubborn, hot-tempered and possessive: Daisy wasn't happy of her showing these sides of herself.

Uncle Jesse, Bo and Luke were doubly speechless.

* * *

"_I, and only I!, am Enos' most close relation, since I LOVE him, and I'd have married him if he hadn't postponed the wedding because of his stupid hives and if he hadn't decided to go to L.A. because of his darn job! "_

Daisy's voice entered Enos' limbo between sleeping and waking. He tried to catch those words, repeating them in his mind, his foggy mind: was it real? Was it a dream? Did Daisy really tell those words?

Gentle hands took off his shoes and touched his forearm where Doc Appleby gave him the shot, rolling down his shirt's sleeve; "Enos, sugar, if you sleep with this sweaty shirt on, you'll catch a cold," Daisy's breath caressed his ear and her lips pressed on his ones, then a warm blanket covered him.

He tried to open his eyes and to call her, but the dark tunnel swallowed him again.

* * *

_LOS ANGELES – FLASHBACK_

He couldn't move his arms. He couldn't move his legs.

Casts. Both arms and legs were broken.

Tubes everywhere.

He was trapped in that bed. He felt as a stupid bug trapped into a spider-web.

It wasn't possible. It couldn't be possible.

Something like that shouldn't have been happened. A lot of things shouldn't have been happened.

They nearly killed him.

Just because his doing his duty.

_I will never betray my badge,_

_my integrity, my character,_

_or the public trust._


	6. Keys' ticking

**KEYS' TICKING**

"Is he still sleeping?" uncle Jesse entered the room, sitting on Bo's bed by Daisy's side.

Already sunset, and Enos was peacefully sleeping on Luke's bed, Daisy's eyes on him. He slept deeply, as the day Daisy entered his apartment.

Just a week before, and Daisy now regretted even more the way she woke him up that day: Vicodin's bottle on the night table and that deep sleeping had now a different meaning, for Daisy, so that she would have slapped herself because of her childish and selfish behaviour. That day Enos was probably sleeping after taking Vicodin for bellyache, or for the pain in his left leg, and she should have let him sleep: if she had let him sleep, would he have nearly drowned the day after? Maybe she interrupted his rest, leading to those consequences. When he woke up he seemed OK, and he seemed OK also when he came back from work, but, maybe, if that afternoon he had slept a bit more…

"Daisy, what are you thinking about? You're thinking of Doc Appleby's words, aren't you?", uncle Jesse's voice a whisper in order not to wake Enos up.

"I can't forget his words, uncle Jesse. He didn't tell what happened to Enos, but he let us know Enos nearly died, 'cause it's what he told us, isn't it?"

Uncle Jesse sighed, "Yeah, it's what Doc Appleby wanted us to know"

"I'm … angry to myself, uncle Jesse"

"Why?" uncle Jesse turned gently to her.

"Cause when he was in L.A. I thought he was too much busy with his job to find the time to write me. When he stopped writing his letters, he was in Hospital. NOW I know it, but at that time I was angry."

"You couldn't know what's happening to him, Daisy. You can't feel guilty 'cause of an emotion. It was a natural emotion, after all, especially since… you love him, don't you?"

In the dark room uncle Jesse couldn't see Daisy blushing, but he heard her soft "yeah."

"You love him and you felt rejected when he stopped writing his letters. You shouldn't feel guilty for it. You couldn't know what's going on."

Uncle Jesse was right, but rationality didn't match with her emotions.

She felt guilty for a lot of reasons, most of all her way to treat Enos along the years (how many times did Enos feel rejected as she flirted with every good-looking man around?): she treated him like a puppet, since they were children, especially since she became aware of Enos' crush on her; Enos was shy and caring (he would have done everything to please her), so it was pretty easy to take advantage of him, and she did it, several times, using him as her puppet.

"Enos, may you give me a lift to the party, sugar? Enos, may you bring my bag, please? Enos, may you….? Enos, may you…? … Enos, may you lie down in the puddle so I can walk on you and my shoes don't get dirty?" There was a time, when she was thirteen years old, she nearly asked Enos to lie in a puddle for her, just to prove herself he'd have done anything for her, to prove her crush on her, a child becoming a woman and starting to realize her power (woman's vanity but child's mind): fortunately uncle Jesse and aunt Lavinia were teaching her to respect people, so smoothing her vanity (beside, if she had asked something like that to Enos, uncle Jesse and aunt Lavinia would have tanned her hide). She liked Enos and she cared for him, even then, even if she treated him like a puppet; she was simply immature.

And when Enos became Hazzard's deputy, she faced, with surprise, his first "NO" to her: a hard lesson to her pride and vanity. But, due to the troublesome relationship between her family and Hazzard's Law, she had to start to use her charm on him, and she had to admit she liked that shucking and jiving him, a sort of "revenge", a way to prove herself she had still a great power on him. A way to fight her only rival, his job.

Enos and his duty: it drove her crazy. Since he decided to be a cop, she understood his duty was the only thing she couldn't fight: "police business", Enos' words to recall her he was a cop. There was a time she was really annoyed by this integrity and honesty (duty, duty and only duty), but along the years she's learnt to love that side of him and to feel a bit ashamed every time she had to foolish him for her family's plans. She started to see his job no more as her rival, but an important side of Enos, a side to esteem and love: but during his staying in L.A. she started again to be jealous of his job, and she felt ashamed of it.

Enos never showed rage or disappointment for Dukes' using him: probably he simply let them foolish him on purpose, his way to boycott Boss' schemes, or simply he didn't even realize they were foolish him. Sometimes it was really difficult to understand what's going on in Enos' mind: naïve and talkative but sometimes secretive, clumsy but sometimes surprisingly perfectly able to do dangerous things and aware of police procedures, shy and sweet but sometimes offish, smiling and acting like a child but sometimes really serious and deep. A kaleidoscope of different personalities, and few people beside Dukes (especially Daisy) knew him so well.

"Daisy, whatever happened to Enos, it happened, and now we can only stay by his side, without forcing him to talk about things he doesn't want to talk about. If you insist, he's going to close like a hedgehog. Respect his privacy. Enos is a man, a stubborn and prideful man, despite his acting like a child the most part of time. And he's less naïve people think." Uncle Jesse's words, a perfect showing of Dukes knowing Enos: he grew with them, after all.

"It seems I can't sleep in my bed, tonight," Luke entered the room, sitting on Bo's bed, followed by his younger cousin.

"Take the folding bed in the barn, Luke, and let Enos sleep," a false reproach in uncle Jesse's voice, since obviously nobody had the notion to kick Enos off Luke's bed, and uncle Jesse knew his nephews' way to draw out the tension: they couldn't deny Doc Appleby's words and Enos' showing his physical pain shocked them all.

"We should undress him. If he sleeps with that sweaty shirt on, he'll catch a cold."

"Daisy…,", uncle Jesse shook his head, "it's not fair to check of signs of the surgical operation Doc talked about on Enos' body. Remember what I've said. Moreover, if we move him, he'll wake up, and he has already that blanket on to protect him from a cold", he looked at Daisy and Daisy blushed: her uncle got it, it was her awkward attempt to know something more about what happened to Enos, looking for any sign of it, even exploring his body.

Stubborn and impatient, she was stubborn and impatient, no doubt about it.

If uncle Jesse had known about her ransacking Enos' room: a side of her she wasn't proud of. A side Enos seemed to appreciate, not be angry at all about it, and his laughing at her "ransacking his unmentionables" stirred her heart as she tried to match the man laughing with her only one week before and the man nearly crying for pain on the couch. She wanted that Enos back, she wanted to see him laughing again. She had to make him laugh again.

* * *

Waking up from his nightmare, Enos opened his eyes wide, trying to understand where he was.

Darkness. He waited his eyes got used to the darkness, slowly moving his legs and arms: he could move legs and arms, no casts, no tubes blocking him in the bed.

He wasn't in Hospital.

His eyes finally able to pierce the darkness, he realized where he was: Dukes' farm, Bo and Luke's room. He was on Luke's bed, a warm blanket on him.

"_Enos, sugar, if you sleep with this sweaty shirt on, you'll catch a cold."_

He had a deep sigh and he sat up.

"Enos, buddy, are you OK?"

Bo's voice as the blonde Duke sat up, and Luke too sat up, so Enos realized his friend was sleeping on a small folding bed.

"I'm OK," he felt ashamed because of the reason why his friends were so worried for him, his nearly crying for pain on their couch, "Sorry for stealing your bed, Luke. I think it's better I'm going to sleep on the couch."

"No way. You should rest, and stop worrying for me."

Rest. He was tired, so he lied down again, with another sigh, but he couldn't sleep.

Again that rage and desperation, as he tossed and turned on the bed, trying to control his breath and to fight back his desire to punch the pillow and to shout: he couldn't let those bad emotions overwhelmed him.

Luke sat on the bed, "Enos, buddy, do you need Vicodin?"

"No, I'm OK, no pain, just… I can't sleep."

No physical pain while he was fighting that terrific anxiety and fear: he feared he could never be the same, he feared nothing could ever be the same. He was shattered; his spirit was shattered more than his body.

"What did Doc Appleby tell you?" He preferred to know, it was better to know what Dukes knew, in order to know what to say and not to say.

"Just you were badly injured in L.A. He said you risked to die, 'cause of… broken bones and internal damages. Nothing else." Luke held his breath, those words still incredible and shocking, for him.

Sitting on his bed, Bo listened silently to Luke and Enos talking.

Enos clenched his fists: the Dukes knew too much.

"I don't want Daisy worry about it." Daisy knew too much, for his taste.

"Enos, Daisy can't help but worrying for you. Everybody's worrying for you. You're our best friend, how can you ask us not to worry?" Luke expressed both his thought and Bo's one, and Bo nodded to his older cousin's words.

"_I, and only I!, am Enos' most close relation, since I LOVE him, and I'd have married him if he hadn't postponed the wedding because of his stupid hives and if he hadn't decided to go to L.A. because of his darn job! "_

The three men in the room recalled Daisy's words with a common incredulity and surprise, and Enos with confusion too (was it real? Did she really tell those words?).

"I don't want she worry too much. I don't want to see her worried," Enos had a brief pause, finally explaining the real meaning of his words, "I… need to see her smiling and laughing in order to… forget what happened." He loved Daisy, and he would have done anything for her, but he had to admit to himself that, in that moment, he wasn't so strong to go through that thing all by himself, and he needed Daisy: Daisy had to be stronger than him. He felt ashamed of that thought 'cause he felt selfish, but he needed his old and sweet Daisy to recover: Daisy's eyes on him that day at the pond saddened him, 'cause her worrisome recalled him the reason of her worrisome; he needed Daisy's laughing as that day at the Boarding House.

"I just want to…. forget. OK? And if you keep on asking me what's happened, looking at me with those worried eyes, I… won't feel better, but worse and worse." He told it. He admitted his need to forget, and admitting his need to forget he was admitting how much he was hurt.

Luke remembered that same desire when he came back from Vietnam, his searching his old life, his wanting so badly to forget everything about that distant Country (where he faced his friends' death and his fear to die there, on the other side of the World, away from his family) and to focus on his present and future in Georgia: his family helped him, understanding his need of normality, and, above all, his need of time before to opening up, 'cause, even if at that time he didn't know it, he would have finally forgotten his pain only after opening up, a spontaneous and not forced opening up. He perfectly understood what Enos was talking about: he risked to die, in L.A., no matter how and why, but he nearly died, so his longing for normality and his old life wasn't surprising.

Luke moved his hand to pat gently on Enos' belly, as many times in the past, in a friendly and knowing way, but he stopped (fearing to hurt him), his hand drifting from Enos' belly to Enos' shoulder, squeezing it gently, no need of other words.

Lying down on his folding bed after a brief but meaningful look at Bo, Luke wondered what to say to Daisy and uncle Jesse the next day.

"They nearly killed me. They beat me with no mercy just 'cause I did my duty."

Enos' words shocked Bo and Luke: he just confessed the reason of his injuries. They waited for other words, but Enos said nothing else, and they wondered if it was really a confession, an opening up, or if he was somehow talking to himself, unaware of their presence.

Enos closed his eyes: he told it. Now Dukes knew why he stayed in Hospital, and he hoped they weren't going to ask him anything else, being content of it.

Surprisingly, he felt better, that terrific anxiety and desperation loosing a bit its hold. But he couldn't say anything more, 'cause it was too much painful: Dukes should be content to know only the tip of the iceberg.

* * *

_LOS ANGELES – FLASHBACK_

His fingers were motionless on the typewriter at his desk, at the Police Department.

His heart beat furiously in his chest and cold sweat dropped along his spine despite the warmth of that April.

He tried to focus on everything happened.

He stood up and he walked to the bathroom, vomiting for the fourth (or fifth?) time few gastric juices, then coming back to his desk, looking at the white sheet in the typewriter, a white sheet waiting for his terrific report.

He recalled Hazzard and Dukes.

"_Enos is the only honest man in Hazzard"_… _"and we need him."_ His friends' help when Boss Hogg replaced him with that crooked deputy, Billy Joe Coogan.

He focused his mind to everything happened, and his fingers started to push on the typewriter's keys, fingers still smelling of blood.

The keys' ticking filled the empty and silent room.


	7. Under a tree

**UNDER A TREE**

Resting against the doorpost, Daisy observed Enos still sleeping, his head half-covered with the blanket while a bright sun entered the room in that September morning, uncle Jesse, Bo and Luke already in the fields for the wheat harvest.

She spent the night tossing and turning in her bed, running to the boys' room as soon as she heard their voices, thinking Enos was feeling sick again, and stopping outside the door when Enos told her cousins he simply couldn't sleep but he had no pain; she remained there, outside the door, listening to their muffled voices, wondering if enter the room or not, and deciding definitively to not come in as Enos said he didn't want to worry her.

"_I… need to see her smiling and laughing in order to… forget what happened."_

Her feeling about Enos' desire to forget was right: he was trying desperately to forget his time in L.A., and he thought of her as his salvation. She was moved by his needing her so badly, but at the same time that responsibility scared her: was she able to help him?

"_They nearly killed me. They beat me with no mercy just 'cause I did my duty."_

His words were stuck in her mind and heart as a red-hot iron. He told Bo and Luke what happened to him, just a little revelation but a revelation; he told her cousins and not her about it, and his partial opening up to her cousins and not to her saddened her, even if she knew he wanted only spare her his pain. He needed her but he didn't want to open up to her 'cause he didn't want to worry her.

Enos rolled on his back, surfacing from the blanket so the sun hit his face, making him moan and cover his eyes with his hand.

Daisy sighed, then she took a deep breath and she dressed her best smile, walking to the bed and sitting on it, "Hey, sugar, it's morning, and it's a great sunny day."

Enos rubbed his eyes then looking at her, "What time is it?"

"8 a.m."

"Possum on a gum bush, Dais, I have to work," he sat up and he put the blanket aside, ready to get up.

"Enos, no, it's your day off," she grabbed his arm, stopping him and facing his surprised look, "Uncle Jesse called Boss, yesterday evening, and he asked him to give you one day off."

"And… did Mr Hogg agree?" more and more confusion in Enos' eyes.

"Well, uncle Jesse persuaded him."

"Uh… yeah, I suppose Mr Hogg is goin' to deduct this day from my salary," he smiled, well knowing Boss' idea about his deputies' salary.

She wrapped her left arm around his waist and she came closer him, "It's a perfect day to spend outside, in the sun."

He moved away from her, "Daisy, sorry, but…," he blushed, "I need a shower… I stink 'cause… I sweated too much," he looked down as a scolded child, embarrassed.

Daisy burst out laughing, surprised by his sweet and naïve way to confess her his fear, "Oh Enos, you're really something else. No, you don't stink. Anyway make yourself at home, after the shower you can dress Bo and Luke's clothes. What do you want for breakfast? While you have a shower, I'm goin' to cook something for you."

"Your apple pie and buttermilk."

"Just apple pie and buttermilk? Are you sure?"

He nodded, "Yeah. I'd like to eat your apple pie. I came here for it, yesterday, after all."

"OK for apple pie and buttermilk," she stood up and she walked to the door, "hurry up. Bo, Luke and uncle Jesse are waiting for us… and for my sandwiches."

Enos looked at her leaving, her clear laugh still resounding in his ears; he took a deep breath and he smiled: Daisy, Dukes, Hazzard's fields, apple pie… he was coming back to life.

* * *

Moving inside the kitchen with simple and automatic gestures, Daisy thought of Enos' words during the night. Luke reported those words to uncle Jesse and to her, that morning, and she pretended she didn't know anything about it (she couldn't confess her eavesdropping), agreeing with Luke's conclusion to help Enos involving him in their life (helping him to feel at home) without pressing him to talk of his trauma 'till he was ready for it.

"_I just want to…. forget. OK? And if you keep on asking me what's happened, looking at me with those worried eyes, I… won't feel better, but worse and worse."_

When Enos entered the kitchen, she dressed again her best smile, a sincere and relaxed smile as she read in his features a same smile.

Luke's shirt and jeans on, Enos sat at the table, eating his apple pie and drinking his buttermilk, and he looked like he enjoyed it very much.

"May I help uncle Jesse, Bo and Luke, in the fields?"

"Sugar, I don't think Doc Appleby's concept of rest provides the wheat harvest." She suddenly regretted her words, afraid of his thinking of her words as a new attempt to talk about what happened to him, but he kept on smiling and eating the apple pie, and she relaxed.

"You're right, if I feel sick after working in the field, Doc Appleby would be a bit … annoyed."

He was joking about it, and Daisy wondered if, somehow, after his confessing the reason why he stayed in Hospital, he felt better. Maybe Luke was right: Enos was going to feel better after opening up, but they couldn't force the time of his opening up.

He confessed the reason of his staying in Hospital to Bo and Luke and not to her: she couldn't deny it bothered her. For sure Enos knew Bo and Luke would have talked to her and uncle Jesse about his confession (he didn't ask Bo and Luke to keep his secret and Enos knew Dukes shared everything about their family and friends), and he confessed it to them. Not to her.

"_Enos is a man, a stubborn and prideful man"_

Uncle Jesse was right, and for a prideful man, a prideful cop, being beaten with no mercy as he was doing his duty was for sure a bad defeat, something crashing his pride (as a man and as a cop), and maybe it was why Enos was more prone to talk about it with his friends (men's things) than to her.

Cop's defeat: again his job above her.

"Daisy, are you OK?"

His voice woke her up from her thoughts. No, she couldn't show him her worrisome and disappointment.

"Everything's OK, sugar. And now, to the fields," she took the lunch-bag and she walked to the door.

* * *

Sitting under a tree they looked at Bo and Luke working hard, their bare and sweaty chests sparkling in the sun.

Daisy glanced at Enos: he seemed fine and relaxed, and she hoped he wasn't going to need Vicodin any more.

"Enos, if I committed a crime, would you arrest me?" Oh my God, she said it, she really asked it to him.

He turned to her, surprised by her question, "Did you commit a crime, Dais?"

"Obviously, NO! Just forget about it, Enos. Stupid question," she blushed, looking away.

He kept on looking at her, "Yeah, if you committed a crime, I would arrest you, 'cause it's my job. It'd kill me, it'd be ravaging, BUT I'd do it. There's no way I'd betray my badge, and if I'd think I can't be loyal to my badge any more, well, I should undress my uniform."

His duty above all, she knew it, and even if she respected his job and this side of him, she was difficult for her to deal with it. She nodded, but she didn't look up at him.

"Daisy, please, PLEASE, you know how much I care for you, you know I'd do everything for you, BUT don't ask me to choose between you and my job. It's not a matter of choice. You and my job are important to me, in a different way. Maybe, if I had to arrest you, if you really committed a crime, I'd do it… and then I'd kill myself, or I wouldn't do it, undressing my uniform… and not being myself anymore."

"Sorry Enos. Stupid question. I'm really sorry," she swallowed against the lump in her throat; she liked but she didn't like that answer, a confusing feeling.

"Are you planning to commit a crime? Did you already commit a crime? Did you drug me with your apple pie in order to take advantage of me and ransacking again my room, unmentionables included?"

Daisy looked up at him, surprised; he was smiling, he was teasing her in order to make her laugh and to stop that conversation, a conversation ravaging not only for her but for him too.

"Oh Enos…," she laughed, "OK, stop this conversation," she sighed and she looked away, "It's that… sometimes… I'm jealous of your job. I want you just for myself." She told it, finally, she confessed it to him, and she felt better.

She felt his eyes on her, and she wondered what he was thinking of her confession.

"You should think of my job not as a rival but as my way to protect you… and to be worthy of you."

Her heart skipped a beat as she realized the real meaning of his words, and the truth in it; he loved her, and he wanted to deserve her, protecting her and being an honest man. A new perspective of his job: she was stunned and happy.

He stood up and he stirred, looking up at the tree's leaves, "Don't call it anymore - darn job -, please," a brief pause, his eyes still focused on the tree's leaves, "You called it – darn job -, didn't you?"

She turned pale, "Yeah… sorry," looking up at him and finding out he was smiling happily whereas she thought he could be angry.

"_I, and only I!, am Enos' most close relation, since I LOVE him, and I'd have married him if he hadn't postponed the wedding because of his stupid hives and if he hadn't decided to go to L.A. because of his darn job!" _

Thinking back of her words, she understood why he was smiling: if he heard her words about his job, it meant he probably heard her words about her being his closest relation and her loving him, too.

"Thanks," he walked to uncle Jesse and the boys, distant in the field, and Daisy remained sitting there, speechless, realizing they just confessed each other their love in their usual way: without using the word "love".

* * *

_LOS ANGELES – FLASHBACK_

In the squad room, Enos looked outside the window, his chief subdividing works among officers: he already knew he was going to stay in office, no way for him to work with his colleagues in the streets.

Another boring day behind a desk, boring paperwork, but he had no choice.

After the briefing he walked outside the room, no eye contact with anybody.

It was disheartening: he always felt like he tried to do the right thing. Was it the consequence of doing the right thing?

He walked to his locker, Daisy's letter in it, a letter he didn't read, yet, torn between the desire to read it and not to read it: he didn't know if that letter would have cheered him up or if it would have saddened him. He missed Hazzard, he missed Daisy, and he wanted to go back to his town, his little and rural town.

Late June. Just a couple of months and his staying in L.A. was over: his training finally over, and what a training. He could ask to come back home before the end of the training, if he wanted to, nobody could stop him, but his pride couldn't accept this defeat.

Walking to his locker, he heard, in the distance, the city's noise, a noise different than usual: no sirens and horns, but voices, shouts, tear-gas shooting, batons beating against shields.

The second day of riot in the neighborhood near the Police Department.

He walked to his locker and he stopped, staring at the letters scrawled on it.


	8. Tidy floor

**TIDY FLOOR**

_Water. A dark blue wall ran towards him, but he couldn't move, his feet stuck on the ground, a flabby ground, like quicksand. Unable to move, the roar of the water in his ears, he crouched; his arms on his head, he was waiting for the blue wall, resigned to die. Light disappeared and drops of water started to fall as the wall was bending forward, obscuring the sun and swallowing him._

Enos sat up in his bed, his eyes open wide in the night's obscurity, his heart beating hard in his chest, his throat dried and a shiver along his spine.

He switched on the lamp on the night table, looking around and repeating to himself he was at home, in Hazzard, at the Boarding House.

Home. Home. Home.

He focused his mind on that day, a peaceful day spent in the fields with Dukes; he focused his mind on Daisy's apple pie for breakfast, on the sun warming him as he slept under a tree after lunch (Daisy's sandwiches), on wheat's scent, on the familiar kitchen at Dukes' farm, on Daisy's soup for dinner, on his playing draughts with uncle Jesse after dinner as they talked about life in Hazzard, just funny gossip (no mention to L.A., no mention to his bellyache the day before, no mention to Doc Appleby's words).

Dukes (and Daisy) were feeding not only his body but his soul too, and he felt safe by their side, as many times in the past. His best friends… and his love since the third grade, always protecting him, but they couldn't protect him when he stayed in L.A.

He got up and he walked to the fridge; the buttermilk eased the pain in his throat.

2 a.m. He switched off the lamp and he cuddled under the blankets, closing his eyes and trying to sleep, his mind still at Dukes.

_Blow after blow. Chest, belly, arms, legs, face, nothing spared as he hung from the ceiling as a punch-bag._

"PLEASE, STOP!"

5 a.m. He was again sitting on his bed, drenched in cold sweat and struggling for breathing. He heard someone walking in the apartment at the low ground, someone probably woken up by his shout, 'cause he was pretty sure he shouted, and he was glad he declined Dukes' invitation to stay at the farm for the night: the last thing he wanted was waking them up during the night because of his shouting after a nightmare, it was already embarrassing having them watching him as he was writhing in pain.

A gentle knock at his door and he faced Mrs. Marple's scared face.

"Is everything OK, Enos? I heard you…," the Boarding House's owner, a small and aged woman always caring for him like a granny.

"Sorry Mrs Marple, just a nightmare, I'm sorry I've woken you up."

Mrs. Marple nodded, a shy and worried smile, and walked away; Enos wondered if she knew something about his being injured in L.A., or she simply noticed he was changed. How many people in Hazzard noticed something was wrong with him? The same way Daisy noticed he was slimmer (so she was more and more zealous in feeding him), someone else noticed it for sure, and for sure his getting drunk at the Boar's Nest didn't pass unnoticed, and he was pretty sure Lulu Hogg talked about his visiting Doc Appleby several times.

He looked at the watch on the night table, he shook his head and he headed to bathroom.

There's no way to sleep again.

In the steam filling the bathroom as the water roared in the shower, he undressed his drenched white t-shirt, his pajama's pants (black pants from old overalls) and his boxer, and he entered the shower. When the first drops hit him, he crouched, embracing himself and resting his forehead against the cold tiles, and he cried, a desperate and non-stop crying.

Nothing could be the same again.

* * *

When Daisy parked her jeep, early in the morning, Mrs. Marple was sweeping the small walkway in front of the Boarding House, a small path surrounded by a garden Mrs. Marple took care of with great diligence.

The aged woman looked at the young Duke walking along the walkway with a bag in her hands.

"Good morning Mrs. Marple," Daisy smiled at the woman.

"If you're here for Enos, Daisy, I'm sorry, but he's already gone."

"Already?" Daisy opened her eyes wide, surprised, then she hid her disappointment with a shrug, "OK, it seems Enos is really eager to work, so I'm goin' to bring him his breakfast," she gently lifted the bag in her hand, showing Mrs. Marple what she was talking about, "at the Police Station. Bye, Mrs. Marple, have a nice day."

On her way back to the jeep, Daisy heard Mrs. Marple calling her. When she turned, the woman was looking down at the ground, her hands fidgeting with her apron, "Sorry if I'm goin' to ask you something like that, Daisy, but… it's about Enos. See, tonight…"

Daisy listened to Mrs. Marple's words, her mouth open wide.

"_Please… stop,"_ the same words Enos shouted that day at the pond, after the crash.

"_They nearly killed me. They beat me with no mercy just 'cause I did my duty,"_ Enos' confession to Bo and Luke.

The colors of Mrs. Marple's beautiful garden turned grey whereas new images, terrific and vivid images, took form in Daisy's mind.

* * *

8 a.m.

When Rosco entered the Police Department, Enos was already there, filling reports with his clear and rounded handwriting, and Rosco wasn't surprised since Enos Strate was the kind of deputy who usually arrived at his office before his Sheriff, but Rosco didn't know his deputy was there since 6 a.m., for sure too early even for the most zealous deputy.

Enos dressed his best smile but it didn't work, 'cause Rosco looked at him with suspect.

"Enos, did you sleep?"

Enos wondered if Rosco knew why Boss gave him a day off, but Rosco answered his silent question.

"Boss told me you didn't feel well, yesterday. Are you OK?"

"I'm fine, thanks," his best attempt to convince Rosco, but he was totally unable to lie.

Rosco looked at him silently, then he pointed at the door, "Hurry up, dipstick! Go to the Busy Bee and buy coffee and doughnuts, two coffees and tons of donuts, for me and you."

Walking to the door Enos smiled, despite Rosco's rude tone. He knew Rosco had a particular way to show his affection for him; he had no doubt about Rosco's affection and respect for him, even if Rosco wouldn't have ever admitted it, he wouldn't have ever admitted he missed his deputy during his staying in L.A.

Coffee and doughnuts: great idea, and Enos knew it was Rosco's way to take care of him (those coffees and doughnuts were more for Enos than for Rosco).

On his way to the Busy Bee, he said hello to people he met; a brief nod and a smile to everyone, and everyone answered him. Everybody in Hazzard knew him. Everybody! Everybody respected him. Everybody! (maybe, with few exception as Beaudrys, but honest people respected him for sure).

Everybody respected him 'cause he was the only honest lawman in Hazzard, and people trusted him. They didn't look at him with suspect and hate because of his uniform, but they looked at him with respect thank of his uniform (and he's never betrayed their trust).

He stopped and closed his eyes: he was back in Hazzard, he was at home, and people around him didn't hate him. He tried to catch that sudden and saving awareness, enjoying that temporary lightness, enjoying the idea of forgetting about L.A. thank to that awareness, the present fighting back the past, Hazzard fighting back Los Angeles. Forget about L.A., completely: it was his only desire. Break any chain to that city, the only thing to do, the best thing he could do.

But when he walked past the newsstand he stopped, that chain again around his neck, as a collar.

* * *

In the distance, Daisy saw him walking to the Busy Bee and stopping at the newsstand, buying a newspaper totally different from "The Hazzard's Gazette". Daisy knew pretty well "The Hazzard's Gazette" (as everybody in Hazzard), and that newspaper wasn't "The Hazzard's Gazette".

She fought back her desire to run to him and to ask him what's going on, but his words in her mind (_"I just want to…. forget. OK? And if you keep on asking me what's happened, looking at me with those worried eyes, I… won't feel better, but worse and worse"_) stopped her; if he had seen her in that moment, he'd have been really saddened: a lot better to wait and to meet him after calming down.

She entered the grocery and, from its window, she waited 'till he went back to the Police Station (coffee and doughnuts in his hand, so he didn't need anymore her breakfast), then she walked to the newsstand.

Few questions to the young vendor, and she knew what she wanted to know (her appeal didn't fail, never): since his coming back from L.A., Enos bought the "Los Angeles Times", and he asked the vendor to get that newspaper for him, every day, even if he was the only one in Hazzard asking for the "Los Angeles Times".

Daisy realized the answer of what happened to Enos in L.A. was in that newspaper: there was a reason why Enos kept on reading that newspaper, probably an echo of what happened to him when he was in L.A.

"And, do you have another copy of it, Andy?" her most sensual voice.

The young vendor nodded, "Yeah. From L.A. they send me just few copies every day of this newspaper; just one copy would be enough, in Hazzard, in effect, since nobody reads it except Enos, but I prefer to have some copies in stock, just in case… Do you want it? You and Enos are the only ones reading this newspaper, in Hazzard, except some stranger from time to time, but actually you and Enos are the only ones."

"Thanks, Andy. Yeah, I think I'm goin' to read it."

* * *

Back to the Police Department with coffees, doughnuts, and newspaper, Enos sat at his desk, sipping the sweet coffee and biting a doughnut, glancing from time to time at the newspaper on his desk, a newspaper waiting for him to be read: both the coffee and the doughnut lost their flavor, and his hand trembled, so he spilt the coffee on his uniform.

"Possum on a gum bush."

His coffee in his hand, Rosco shook his head as he looked at Enos walking to the locker room to change his uniform's shirt, "That dipstick."

* * *

The "Los Angeles Times" in her hands, sitting on a bench, Daisy started to read the newspaper, feeling guilty as she was going to read a secret diary, or to ransack, again, Enos' place. But she had no choice: she couldn't know what happened from Enos, and she HAD to know it, 'cause she felt the only way to help him was to know it.

She skimmed some local news.

_Body of missing O.C. woman found; roommate held._

_Man who claimed police brutality is rearrested._

_Three gang members arrested in cold case killings._

_Fire official charged with arson, theft._

_L.A. area campus lock down after threatening call._

With a sigh Daisy closed the newspaper, more and more confused. Impossible to know if in those article there was something relating to what happened to Enos. There could be something really important as nothing at all.

Was she was waiting for? An article starting with "officer Enos Strate"?

The only thing she knew for sure, now, was that Los Angeles was a violent city.

She looked again at the newspaper in her hand, confused but at the same time sure she had in her hands the key to understand what happened to Enos.

She stood up and she walked to the newsstand. When she told the vendor what she wanted him to do, he looked at her with both eyes and mouth open, speechless, but he couldn't say "no, too complicated" to Daisy Duke.

* * *

In the locker room, Enos stared at his locker, those letters surfacing in his mind.

Those disgusting letters scrawled on his locker in L.A.

R

A

T

Overwhelmed by rage, he punched the locker with all his strength, just one punch, enough to understand, again, that nothing could be the same again.

* * *

_LOS ANGELES – FLASHBACK_

Tidy floor, so bright it seemed a mirror.

Silence around him, in that place there was always silence.

He didn't sleep along that night, and he didn't eat anything for dinner and for breakfast, but despite his stomach was empty he felt like he had to vomit.

He looked at his figure reflected on the floor, a pitiful version of him: even if he was in uniform, and well combed, he was pale and his features tight.

He wanted to run away.

What if…?

"_Enos is the only honest lawman in Hazzard"_

Honest lawman. He couldn't run away.

"Officer Strate. It's your turn."

His heart raced, his hands became sweaty and his stomach twisted; he stood up and he followed the woman along the Courthouse corridor.


	9. Steps resounding in the alley

**STEPS RESOUNDING IN THE ALLEY**

"Hi, Rosco," Daisy entered the Police Department, and she couldn't help but notice a copy of the "Los Angeles Time" on Enos' desk, the same copy she hid in her jeep after a careful read looking for anything concerning Enos' staying in L.A. She didn't find anything interesting, or, it was better to say, she didn't find any clue about Enos, but it was the first copy of the "Los Angeles Time" she read, and she hoped to find, at some point, the right clue to understand what Enos hid so jealously.

Enos wasn't there, and it disappointed Daisy, "Where's Enos?"

"At the gym," Rosco didn't even look at her, "that dipstick should learn to …," he shook his head, and he walked to the locker room to answer Daisy's question.

"Learn… what?" Daisy looked at Rosco walking to the locker room, and she followed him.

In the little room (just a wooden bench, few lockers, and another door heading to a small bathroom) Daisy noticed Enos' locker (his name on it), and she needed some time to understand why Rosco brought her there, "What's that dent?"

"I told Enos to go to the gym, if he wanted to punch something," Rosco walked past Daisy, coming back to his desk.

"Did Enos give a punch to… his locker?" something totally uncharacteristic for Enos, but something perfectly showing his pain, "But, Rosco, why? Was he… strange? Confused? Sort of… in trance?" Daisy remembered his empty look at the pond, his eyes lost into something away from there. Did it happen again?

"He went to the locker room to change his shirt and I heard a thud, and when I walked there I saw him opening and closing his right hand to ease the pain, … and that dent on his locker. I asked him what the heck he was doin' but he simply told me he probably needed ... some physical exercise."

"But… Rosco…"

"Daisy Duke, don't ask me anything else. Go and find out what's happening to that dipstick."

Daisy knew she couldn't obtain anything else from Rosco, since the Sheriff looked even more shocked than her, a shock so deep he undressed his mask, showing his real feelings for Enos.

Gym. It wasn't strange to see Enos at the gym: along the years he got used to spend, from time to time, his lunch break at the gym, and there was a time Daisy friendly teased him about his large shoulders and muscles thanks weightlifting. But weightlifting was something pretty different than boxing, especially using a locker as target.

* * *

It didn't matter. It didn't matter how much pain he felt, but he needed it.

It was pointless. Fighting back that desperation and that rage: it was pointless.

Why did it happen? WHY? HOW? What's the sense of being a cop if things like that could happen?

He could still smell the pungent smoke of tires' burning. He could still feel his sweat along his spine and in his eyes as he walked under the sun, sweating not only for the sun: nobody getting behind him, nobody backing him up.

Whatever had happened, nobody would have helped him.

Hate around him, in front of him, behind him. All around him.

He hit the punch-bag with all his strength, unaware of the pain in his right hand and forearm: he's learnt to endure the pain, after all, no mercy for him.

And, maybe, he deserved it: a lesson for the life.

He was just a stupid idealist.

"_Breathe, even if there's no air. Breathe and breathe, again. The sun is warming you, so breathe, Enos! Breathe the nature's scent! You're alive" _

He hit again and again the punch-bag, recalling himself to breathe.

* * *

The punch-bag swung under Enos' violent punches.

Daisy was speechless: it was the first time she saw Enos boxing, it was the first time she saw him doing something so rude and violent.

The white t-shirt adhered to his body, and, after every punch, sweat's small drops sparkled around him.

Daisy kept on looking at him as hypnotized: he was lost in his fight, and Daisy wondered what's going on in Enos' mind, for sure something dramatic and painful.

"_They beat me with no mercy"_

Was he giving vent to his rage because of his broken pride? Cop's defeat? Uncle Jesse was right, Enos was a stubborn and prideful man, and for sure his pride was broken after the beating. But was only a matter of pride? No, there was something more, and Daisy felt it.

She kept on looking at his violent and desperate fight against the punch-bag, and she woke up from her thoughts when he fell on his knees, exhausted, his hands on the floor, his head down, sweat dripping from his hair.

"_Let him rest and keep an eye on him. Remember him he's not a robot and he has to rest."_

Daisy remembered Doc Appleby's words.

"Enos! What are you doin'? You should have rest, and THIS is NOT resting, sugar." She washed away her previous shock and she approached him.

"Daisy? Why are you here?" he turned to her, still on his knees.

"Rosco told me you're here. I didn't know you love boxing, I thought you prefer weightlifting… or something more peaceful… fishing, for example, " she tried to remain calm, sparing him her worrisome.

"Uh. No, I don't love boxing, just… just physical exercise. I know Doc Appleby told me to have rest, but… I need to… restore my energy. I stayed too much into a Hospital's bed, for my taste, and it's why I'm so weak. I need physical exercise, not rest. I had enough rest, forced rest." He stood up and he reached his gym bag, taking a towel and wiping his face.

His hands trembled, a proof of how much exhausted he was.

Daisy didn't stand it any more, and she grabbed his hands, stopping their trembling, "Enos, please! Stop it. What's the matter with you? You shouldn't be here… you shouldn't push your body to this. I don't want to see you like that day; I don't want to call Doc Appleby 'cause you're feeling bad. It scares me."

"I'm sorry. I don't want to worry you, Daisy," his hands slipped away from her ones, "I promise I'll be more careful, and I'll have more rest. OK?"

She nodded, her eyes on him as he walked to the locker room.

* * *

Under the shower's jet Enos tried to stop trembling. Daisy and Doc Appleby's were right: he needed to have rest, his body wasn't ready for that physical exercise. He was so tired he felt like he had to vomit, and every muscle of his body ached.

Every part of his body ached, but not as that day, anyway.

If Daisy had known what happened to him…

But he didn't want to see her crying.

* * *

If she had known what happened to him, she'd have found the best way to help him: only knowing what's going on into his mind could give her the possibility to help him in the right way.

There was desperation in his punches, as he was trying to knock out himself, and it scared her.

Sitting on a bench inside the small gym she waited for him until he came out the locker room. Despite he had a shower and he wore his uniform, he looked still dead tired: his moves were slow and his features tight.

"Enos, come with me to the farm and…"

"I have to go back to work, sorry," he stopped her words and he walked to the door, "and after work I'll go to the Boarding House. I need to rest, you're right."

"You may have rest at the farm, too. I'm going to refresh and clear our guestroom; we rarely use it and it's full of odds and ends, but I can…"

"It seems you like very much tidy up, Daisy," he smiled, "but… no, thanks, you've already done too much for me. I appreciate it, but I don't want to take advantage of your hospitality."

"Take advantage of our hospitality? Enos, what are you talking 'bout?" she followed him outside the gym, "Uncle Jesse, Bo, Luke and I really care for you, and you should know it. We're friends, close friends. And…," she walked past him and she stopped in front of him, looking into his eyes, "… and I love you, Enos Strate, if you haven't realized it, yet."

She told it, she finally told him.

"You're my closest relation, I know. It's what you told Doc Appleby," he smiled shyly, blushing a bit, "and I love you, Daisy, but…," he lowered his head, "I don't know if I deserve you, I'm a bit confused, lately, and… tired, and… I don't know what. Actually I'm only able to worry you, and I don't want…"

"Enos! Stop saying things like that. Since you're so confused, and tired and… you don't know what, you should let me love you and take care of you. Besides, there's no way you can convince me to stop loving you or to stop taking care for you. It's like to ask a river not to flow, or ask a bird not to fly, and now, please," she came closer him, gently wrapping her arms around his waist and resting her head on his chest, "please, let me hug you, sugar, I want it since you came back from L.A."

He didn't run away from her hug, but his arms remained still along his body; he just held his breath, and, when she tried to hug him more tightly, he repressed a moan and he stiffened.

"Sorry, I didn't want to hurt you, Enos," she let him go and had a step back.

"I'm OK, don't worry," he tried to calm her with a smile, "Gotta go, now. Thanks for… everything. See you"

She looked at him walking away, fighting back her desire to reach him: she knew Enos enough to understand when come closer him and when have a step back. She would have kept an eye on him, a silent and continuous presence by his side, ready to intervene.

* * *

Daisy loved him.

It was his dream, it's always been his dream, and now he was sure of her love.

So, WHY wasn't it enough? Why didn't he answer to her hug?

He tried to grab that awareness, to grab that possibility of happiness, but it didn't work.

Every time he tried to catch it, to enjoy the happiness to be back home again, between his friends and love, that happiness slipped from his hands, replaced by memories from L.A., memories he was trying to erase but he wasn't able to.

Lying on his bed, he focused on his physical pain, losing himself in that pain in order to forget what's going on in his mind: the time spent at the gym woke up every pain previously hidden in his body.

He felt as if a press was squashing him, but he didn't moan, he didn't move.

He just wanted to lose himself in that pain, as a sort of catharsis, as if physical pain could wash away his inner demons.

He just wanted to pass out, being unconscious for a long time, waking up with no memory of the past.

And he passed out, a pleasant feeling of losing weight and of being lifted.

In his unconsciousness, Daisy's voice called his name, and he felt again her arms around him.

* * *

_LOS ANGELES – FLASHBACK_

Friday afternoon, April 13.

A call about a white teenager reported with a gun; chaos of cops in frantic pursuit of suspects, the gunman between them.

Enos ran after one of the guys, just their steps resounding in the dead-end alley; he reached the fugitive and he grabbed him as he was trying to climb over the fence at the end of the alley; his grab was tight, despite the guy's attempt to wiggle out of him, despite his kicks and jabs, despite his insults.

"Don't worsen your position, please. Attacking a law enforcement officer is a serious charge," his voice calm and gentle, as usual, as he was talking to a little brother.

He dragged the guy along the alley, to the square where his colleagues were gathering the other suspects.

And he stopped, frozen.


	10. A newspaper and a report

**A NEWSPAPER AND A REPORT**

No more gym for him.

Two days after his "physical exercise" Enos still felt dead tired: it was like moving in riot gear. Since the evening he passed out on his bed (as he dreamt of Daisy), awakening up the next morning, every move was painful.

And now a brawl at the Boar's Nest: he wasn't able to face a brawl, he was aware of it and it drove him crazy. He was totally useless, a useless cop.

* * *

"Did you hear?"

Luke looked at Bo, no other words to say: Bo swerved and headed to the Boar's Nest. If there was a fight, and if Enos was coming there (as they heard from the C.B.), they had to keep an eye on him, especially after Daisy's talking about Enos' strange behavior at the gym and about his looking dead tired since then.

When Bo parked the General in front of the Boar's Nest there was no patrol car, yet: good, they came earlier than Rosco and Enos, and they could stop the brawl before their arrival.

The usual fight at the Boar's Nest: chairs and tables cracking under flying bodies, checked green cloths scattered everywhere, shed beer, drunk people supporting drunk fighters.

"OK, THE FIGHT IS OVER!", Luke's voice surprised everyone, so the brawl stopped for a while, everyone turning to Bo and Luke who were standing at the entrance, their arms up. Just a brief stop, then the fight started again, Bo and Luke in the middle of it.

When Enos and Rosco entered the Boar's Nest, most of the fighters laid on the floor, knocked out by Bo and Luke, the last tough nuts being two youngsters, two strangers, still on their feet.

"Enos, cuff 'em and stuff 'em!"

Glancing at the cops coming in, the two youngsters ran to the door, trying to overwhelm the uniformed men in order to reach the door. Rosco fell on one of the spared tables, cracking it under his weight, whereas Luke reached the youngster who was passing by Rosco, jumping on him and dragging him to the floor as in a perfect detective movie.

The other youngster crashed into Enos, taller and more muscular than Rosco. The impact made Enos have few steps back, but he didn't lose his balance, wrapping his arms around the boy more tightly he could; the guy tried to wiggle out of Enos with a violent jab against Enos' stomach, and Enos bent down, falling on the floor, the guy with him, his face hitting violently a broken chair.

"Police brutality! This is police brutality!", a cut on his face, finally the guy wriggled out of Enos' hands, just to crash into Bo.

"This is not police brutality. And you're a stupid and crying brat," Bo punched the guy, knocking him out, "learn to avoid a brawl if you don't want to be arrested," then he turned to Enos, "Are you OK, buddy?"

Enos woke up from a sort of catatonic state, "Uh, yeah, I'm OK, thanks."

"Dipstick. Cuff 'em and stuff 'em!" Rosco stood up, looking at Enos cuffing the guy knocked out by Bo, "Enos! Cuff Bo and Luke. THEY're responsible of this fight."

"What?", Luke folded his arms, his chin up, a challenge to Rosco, "How can you say Bo and I are responsible of the brawl? You weren't here to know who started it."

"You Dukes are always responsible of everything! Enos, stop cuffing that drunk guy and cuff them two!"

A brief glance between Bo and Luke, and then a brief glance at Enos; it wasn't the case to involve Enos in a chase, one of their usual chase, in their minds what happened just some days before.

"Ok, Enos, it's not your fault, buddy. Arrest me," Luke unfolded his arms and he offered his wrists to Enos.

"But… sheriff. Bo and Luke aren't the only ones involved in the brawl. And I think they're trying to stop it, honestly," a meaningful look at his friends: he was naïve but not stupid, and he knew pretty well Bo and Luke were keeping an eye on him since his coming back from Los Angeles, so he guessed they came to the Boar's Nest just to stop the brawl before his arrival.

"Enos! I'm your superior officer, and if I say you to cuff them you HAVE to cuff them!"

"Enos, don't worry. Come on, arrest us, we're going to call uncle Jesse for the bail. It's not the first time," Luke tried again to convince Enos to arrest him: they didn't want to involve him in any chase (with its consequences) neither to push him against Rosco (and Boss, with its consequences).

"NO! They're innocent and I'm not going to arrest them, sheriff. I'm sorry," Enos looked down at the floor and shook his head, "I don't want to arrest them, and I won't do it."

Rosco, Bo and Luke stared at Enos, surprised by his unusual and firm standing against Rosco; and Rosco was for sure the most surprised of them all since he put his hat off, scratching his grizzled hair, no more shouts from him (he didn't want to shout against Enos), his eyes on his deputy, "Cuff that boy, now. We'll talk about it later," then he turned to Bo and Luke, "and you, go, but the next time you won't be so lucky."

* * *

When Bo and Luke entered the kitchen, Daisy stared at them, her eyes open wide, "Bo, Luke! What's happened?" on her cousins' face clear signs of a fight.

"A brawl at the Boar's Nest," Bo shrugged, "is the dinner ready?"

Daisy rolled her eyes up and shook her head, "Glad it's my day off."

Luke sat silently at the table, his eyes thoughtful.

"Luke, something's wrong?" uncle Jesse knew that look: his older nephew was pondering on something important.

"I was thinking of the brawl. Something happened along the brawl."

"Are you talking about Enos standing against Rosco and refusing to arrest us? Yeah, it surprised me, but… it's not the first time Enos takes our part, after all. Good ol' Enos," Bo smiled.

"Was Enos involved in the fight?" Daisy sat near Luke, waiting for news, hoping good news.

"We arrived at the Boar's Nest before Enos and Rosco. So we managed to stop the fight, just two youngsters left, no problem for Enos to stop one of them. He's OK, don't worry."

Daisy had a deep sigh and she gently squeezed Luke's shoulder, "Thanks."

"But…"

"But… what?" Daisy's grasp on Luke's shoulder tightened.

Luke looked at Bo, "Did you notice? Enos' reaction as that guy shouted about police brutality. He froze, he turned pale and he let the guy go."

Bo remained silent for a while, pondering on Luke's words, "Yeah… in effect…"

"Police brutality? What are you talking about? Luke, please, tell me EVERYTHING."

Luke turned to Daisy, explaining her his idea: he talked to her about the brawl, about how Enos stopped the guy who's trying to run away, about how he fell on the floor and how the guy hit his face against a broken chair, blaming Enos of police brutality, and about Enos's freezing as he heard the guy talking of "police brutality".

"Maybe Enos turned pale and froze just 'cause of the jab in his stomach, or… maybe… that guy talking of police brutality shocked him because of something happened to him in L.A. Just a thought," Luke shrugged, "maybe I'm wrong and I'm giving too much importance to something not having any importance."

"Wait a minute," Daisy rushed to her bedroom, coming back with a newspaper in her hand, opening it and resting it on the table, "here," her forefinger tapping on an article.

"Man who claimed police brutality is rearrested. A 18-year-old who testified in the trial of police officers accused of beating him in April, during a robbery arrest, has been arrested again, on suspicion of robbery," Luke read what Daisy was pointing out, then looked up at her, "so, what's this?"

"The Los Angeles Time. Enos read it since he came back from the city. Every day. And I suppose there's a reason why he keeps on reading it. As if he's looking for something. And I'm buying it, every day, as him… to look for some possible clue. And this is a clue, or I hope so. It's a copy of two days ago, but yesterday and today there's nothing about police brutality, just articles about gangs, murderers, and so on."

"Are you buying this newspaper every day to find out a… clue?"

Daisy turned to Bo, shrugging, "Yeah. Is it so strange?"

"Yeah, it's… stalking," Bo smiled then he approached Luke to read the article about the case of police brutality, "what's about, Luke?"

"A man claimed some police officers of police brutality, in April. And now he's been re-arrested. But there are just few lines: there's no name of any officer, no what's happened exactly, nothing about the trial. Nothing," Luke stared at Daisy, "There's no clue about Enos in this article."

"His letters became shorter and shorter since April. I didn't realize it when I read that article, two days ago, but now you've talked about Enos' reaction to that guy's words, today, this article, and its referring to April, has a great importance."

Luke closed the newspaper, looking up at the ceiling, his eyes thoughtful and his arms folded, "What if… Enos and his colleagues have been blamed of police brutality?"

"Enos? Police brutality? Are you kidding?"

"I'm not saying Enos and his colleagues were guilty, I'm just saying maybe someone blamed Enos for something he didn't commit. And if it happened, I'm not surprised Enos is so strange, so... sad. And since Enos is a honest cop, this kind of charge would shatter him."

"And what about the beating? Enos told they beat him with no mercy," Daisy swallowed against the lump in her throat, "and it happened more or less in July, when he stopped abruptly to write me."

"A revenge of someone near the man claiming him of police brutality, I suppose."

Bo nodded at Luke's assumption, "Yeah, it works. BUT that article is too short, just few lines, and we can be totally wrong. The newspaper is giving much more space to that gang raging in the city, and maybe Enos is interested in that gang; maybe THEY beat him."

"This newspaper is not enough, just suppositions, nothing else. It's pointless," Luke shrugged.

"If we had ALL the copies of The Los Angeles Time during Enos' staying there, we could understand something more. We could find the truth."

Bo, Luke and uncle Jesse stared at Daisy, a clever and satisfied smile blooming on her face as she folded her arms and raised her chin, her way to tell her family she's already got it.

"And we're goin' to have ALL the copies of The Los Angeles Time along the last seven months. Andy, the newsvendor, is getting them for me," Daisy nodded, satisfied.

"Wait, wait. ALL the copies along the last seven months? For… what?" Bo looked at his older cousin, stunned.

"For eating them, Bo," sarcasm in Daisy's voice and then a sigh, "Obviously, to read them and to find what happened to Enos. I KNOW those newspapers are the way to understand everything."

"Yeah, I know what are you planning to do, Daisy," Bo shook his head, "my question is: even IF we find out what happened to Enos, how can we use it? If Enos doesn't want to talk about it, you couldn't talk to him about it, anyway."

Uncle Jesse nodded, "Bo is right. Moreover, I think Enos wouldn't be so happy knowing we … spied… him this way. Remember his pride."

"I don't want to push him to talk about things he doesn't want to, and I'm not planning to tell him what we're goin' to find out. I just want to know what happened in order to help him in the best way. I want to know what's goin' on in his mind: if he's disappointed, sad, or angry, or whatever else, and why. At that point, I'll know how to help him. You didn't see him at the gym, the way he was hitting the punch-bag, as he was punching himself, as he was hurting himself. I HAVE to find a way to help him."

The three men looked at each other: Daisy wouldn't have changed her mind. Beside, they too wanted to know what happened to their best friend, and they would have done everything they could do, in order to help him: Dukes-style.

Meanwhile, 200 copies of "The Los Angeles Time" were already arriving to Hazzard.

* * *

_LOS ANGELES – FLASHBACK_

Chief Thomas's pen tapped on the paper sheet in front of him, "Is it your report, Strate?"

Enos held his breath, his eyes down at the shiny wooded desk, "Yes sir."

"Are you sure?" Chief Thomas's voice cold as ice.

"Yeah," Enos swallowed against the lump in his throat, "It's what I've seen."

In the room only the pen tapping on the wooden desk.

"And what about the man?" the chief's voice broke the silence.

"He's at the Hospital, right now."

He still felt on his hands the man's blood.


	11. Hanging from the ceiling

**HANGING FROM THE CEILING**

"Enos!" Luke came out the General Lee, followed by Bo and Daisy, running to the uniformed motionless figure lying on the river's bank.

When they approached, the figure simply sat up, rubbing his eyes, "Hi Bo. Hi Luke. Hi Daisy."

"Enos, what…?" Luke stopped, looking at his friend with a surprised face.

Enos stood up and stirred, "Just a nape. It's a sunny day, and I decided to eat my lunch here, sitting on the river's bank, but, after lunch, uh… I just closed my eyes enjoying the sun and… well… I fell asleep," Enos' brief funny laugh, "I hope sheriff Rosco didn't call me, or he'll fire me."

Luke smiled, shaking his head, Bo laughed and Daisy bent over, her hands on her knees, sighing in relief.

"Don't try again to scare us this way, buddy," Bo patted gently on Enos' shoulder, keeping on smile, "It's incredible how you're able to have a nap wherever you are, Enos."

"Yeah, tied on a chair and hanging on a door as a beef, too," a genuine and shy smile from Enos, whose words surprised Bo and Luke, showing them finally their old and good friend and not his pale shadow, this new image of him washing away the scared and shocked one, the one they met just one week before at the Boar's Nest during a brawl, a week spent keeping an eye on him, a peaceful week, fortunately.

Daisy, instead, wasn't surprised so much, in her mind Enos' image as he talked and laughed of his "unmentionables" at the Boarding House: sometimes, here and there, Enos was still her sweet and clumsy Enos, but sometimes he was someone totally different, someone hitting a punch-bag with all his strength, a fury and a desperation never seen in him. It was as two different Enos were fighting inside him, he was probably fighting to come back to his old self, and it saddened and scared Daisy: he was desperately trying to not succumb to his dark memories, grabbing the present time, Hazzard and his friends, his only way to resist to the darkness inside him. Daisy felt it stronger than anybody else.

If only she had known what happened to him, she would have found the best way to help him: a false charge for police brutality leading to an unjust and terrific revenge? Was Luke's supposition right?

"_Enos is a honest and peaceful man, someone totally unable to hurt anybody on purpose. I've never seen him hitting someone for rage, for revenge, or just for fun. If he hits someone it's just for self-defense or in order to stop a criminal, never exceeding in violence, anyway. So, IF really someone blamed him of police brutality, and if he faced the consequences of this false charge, well, I'm not surprised he's so shattered. Physical scars will heal, but psychological scars can change someone forever." _

Daisy thought of uncle Jesse's last words the evening they talked about the possible meaning of Enos' reaction during the brawl and of that article on "The Los Angeles Time": she didn't want to see Enos changing, and her family would have done whatever they could to help Enos to remain grabbed to his old self. Whatever.

"_So, the best way to help him, now, is to help him to feel at home, to help him to understand we trust him and we care for him, ALL Hazzard trusts and cares for him, no matter what L.A. did to him. No matter if L.A. betrayed him, he NEEDS to understand WE won't betray him," _wise uncle Jesse's words.

"Hey Enos, what do you think to come at the farm for dinner? Uncle Jesse's famous carp, soup and hush puppies." Bo too was probably remembering uncle Jesse's words.

"Uncle Jesse's carp? Thanks, Bo, yeah, I'd like to have dinner at the farm… if… you want to."

"Enos, I've already invited you, so, I want to, buddy," Bo smiled gently.

"WE want to," and Luke confirmed their invitation.

Daisy walked closer him, gently kissing his cheek and making him blush, "See you, sugar."

When they walked to their orange car, Daisy turned to him, a relaxed and dreamy smile on his face as he waved to her, his cheeks still red: her sweet Enos.

* * *

Looking at the orange car becoming smaller and smaller, a cloud of dust behind it, Enos had a deep sight, he closed his eyes and he inhaled the scent around him, home's scent.

He walked to the river's bank and he sat down, enjoying the sun and trying to catch that peace and that comfort; he was surprised of how his emotions could change so much even along a single day, it was like being on a roller-coaster, a continuous up and down, comfort as he grabbed his present life, desperation and rage as his memories surfaced to his mind; an exhausting effort to push those memories away, forgetting everything. Useless effort.

He felt those memories waking up, again, and he stood up, walking to his car and driving away in order to find something to distract himself: job, friends, folks, whatever.

* * *

On their way back to the farm, in that early afternoon, Dukes were silent, in the General Lee's trunk and on the back seat 200 copies of "The Los Angeles Time".

Sitting between her cousins, Daisy was lost in her thoughts, those newspapers being a sort of annoying presence in the car, a rotten and foreign body, something Daisy wanted to explore (in order to know) but at the same time she feared. Andy got those newspapers for her in one week, and she was surprised of that quickness: just a call from Andy to a friend of a friend of a friend (the one at the end of the chain working for "The Los Angeles Time") and he managed to recover those copies; she didn't know how, exactly, but now those copies were in an orange car in Georgia instead of going to the shredder in L.A. Strange destiny.

"So, Andy's really managed to get you all The Los Angeles Time's copies."

Bo's voice woke Daisy up from her thoughts.

"Yeah, we should start to read them after we arrive at the farm, before Enos' coming for dinner. It's 1 p.m., and we have several hours before Enos' coming, several hours to read them… and to cook dinner. Maybe we're goin' to find something already today, otherwise we're goin' to keep on reading tomorrow. And we're goin' to hide these newspapers in my room. Now, I think we should work this way: 200 copies means 50 copies for any of us, uncle Jesse is goin' to read the first 50 copies (March and April), I the last 50 copies (July and August), and you and Luke the copies about May and June. Is everything clear? We're going to read EVERYTHING about local news, noting everything that could be interesting… rough cases, news about police brutality, accidents involving cops, and so on, and, obviously, Enos' name."

"It'll be really difficult. And maybe useless," Luke, his eyes on the road as he drove, glanced at Daisy, "but it seems it's our only chance, since Enos doesn't want to talk about it."

Daisy nodded, "We're goin' to find what happened to him, trust me. I feel it."

Nobody talked 'till they arrived at the farm, and when uncle Jesse saw them stopping the General Lee and taking from it several newspapers' packets, he understood it was time for their research: a long reading.

* * *

4 p.m.

Three hours of febrile reading, a pencil and a white sheet for any of them, the silence broken by their various suppositions, their eyes glancing at the clock: Enos was coming for dinner, and for sure they couldn't let him find them surrounded by all those newspapers, no dinner ready (unless they wanted to give him paper for dinner).

Supposition after supposition, discard after discard, their beginning idea of Enos blamed of police brutality rejected too (after a news about three cops committing police brutality in April, the man blaming them, Tom Mellow, being the same one they knew was re-arrested, but no Enos' name between those three names), their hope to have a clue disappointed, their febrile research on other possible clues.

"For God's sake," uncle Jesse's leapt on his armchair, his nephews and niece looking at him, their eyes wide in a thrilling waiting, "It's an article about that man blaming three cops of police brutality, again."

"But… in that previous article Enos' name wasn't between the ones of the cops blamed," Daisy looked at her uncle, in confusion; they already rejected that supposition.

"He wasn't one of the cops blamed of police brutality, in effect," uncle Jesse glanced at her, then his eyes again on the newspaper in his hand as he read, "Mellow and his attorney hope that this officer," a brief pause and his eyes lingering on his audience before to go on, "Enos Strate," a start from his nephews and niece, "will be able to discredit the testimony of the cops who claimed Mellow assaulted them. Having one police officer testifying against others in support of a defendant would be a rare phenomenon in the courtrooms of Los Angeles. It would constitute something of a break with the L.A. Police Department's notorious code of silence, the so-called blue wall of silence that critics say routinely protects brutal and corrupt police officers from discipline and prosecution," uncle Jesse stopped, his eyes thoughtful.

"We got it. Now we know what happened," Luke nodded, "So Enos testified against his colleagues after seeing them committing a crime. No surprising, for Enos," he sighed, "and no surprising it saddened and disappointed him: he probably trusted his colleagues, and they betrayed their job."

"And what about the beating, now?" Daisy's obvious question as her heart raced in her chest, thinking of how much Enos felt disappointed and hurt because of his colleagues' action.

Bo grabbed frantically the newspapers at his feet (from May to June), "If the origin of everything is that trial, well, I've just read some news about what happened after the trial. Some riots started in the city after the acquittal of those police officers."

"But… if Enos testified against them… why…"

Bo turned to Daisy, "Other officers testified in favor of them. So, Enos' deposition was the single one against them. Several officers were involved in that arrest, and… nobody else saw something wrong beside Enos… It seems they said Mellow had a gun... but no gun was found. Anyway, the jury acquitted all three officers, and riots started. When I read the news about the trial and the riots I didn't think Enos was involved 'cause his name wasn't mentioned, just the names of the three officers charged, so I put it aside. But now…"

"Oh my God," Daisy covered her face with her left hand, his right one clinging to the newspaper in it. Swallowing against the lump in her throat and thinking of how Enos felt after that double betrayal, she skimmed the news of the newspaper in her hand, finally knowing what she had to look for: since July the news talked about the riots, and Enos' letters stopped in July, so she was pretty sure he was injured in those riots. She skimmed the news of the newspapers at her feet, newspaper after newspaper, stopping abruptly on July 16th, tears filling her eyes, "Police officer brutally beaten during riots." She just skimmed the news, just to find the name of that police officer, and her doubts came to an end. Fortunately the journalist didn't bask into that beating, just few lines about the protesters beating a police officer, along a long report of that new day of riots, too much to say to focus only on one of the injured people, even if a cop.

"So, bitter twist of fate, Enos was the police officer victim of the protesters' fury. The only cop who did his duty," Bo shook his head, standing up and walking to the window, his arms raised, his hands resting on the window frame and his head down: his way to show his disbelief, rage and sadness all mixed together as he remembered Enos' few words about being beaten and about doing his duty.

"And I bet it happened 'cause nobody backed him up, otherwise protesters wouldn't have been able to beat so brutally a cop. Enos was probably alone," Luke stood his cousins and uncle's shocked look, "something similar happens among soldiers too. Nobody backs up a… rat, as it's called someone testifying against another soldier."

Bo turned again to the window, his fist hitting the frame, "It's… ABSURD!" rage in his voice.

"It's absurd, and unjust, and shameful, but it happens," Luke's voice moderate by his self-control beside Bo's sensitivity.

"And it's why we have to help Enos to feel at home, finally, washing away his sense of… betrayal, 'cause for sure what happened hurt his trust in his job and his idealism, beside his body. Come on, hide those newspapers and help me to cook dinner," uncle Jesse stood up, wearily as a boulder weighed on him, and slowly followed by his niece and nephews, their stomach worming for rage and sadness.

* * *

_LOS ANGELES – FLASHBACK_

When he woke up, his arms were tied above his head, and his feet barely reached the floor: he was hanging from the ceiling, and it hurt.

He remembered his falling after a stone hit his helmet, and some tall men dragging him away from the crowd. He didn't remember those men 'cause someone put something on his face, probably a handkerchief soaked of chloroform, making him faint.

He didn't wear nor helmet nor knee and elbow pads, now, just his uniform.

He was blindfolded and he couldn't see where he was and who was around him.

He could hear them moving around him, no words from them.

The first blow hit him with a terrific violence, and other blows followed.

He knew what was hurting him, its length, its thickness and its toughness: baton, several batons… from cops' equipment.

* * *

**Just a short note at the end of this chapter, but an IMPORTANT note, for me. OK, you understood what the story is about, but I want to say that it'****s NOT a story AGAINST cops (despite the thorny topic), not a story against LAPD!, so I hope nobody is offended by it (cops, cops' wives or sons, and so on... in my family there are a lot of cops, I'm a sister, a grand-daughter and a niece of uniformed men, so for sure the spirit of this story is not a spirit against police). I just want to explore Enos' sense of duty and idealism, what can shatter it and how Dukes can help him. **

**Hope you're liking it, and THANKS for reading :-) **


	12. Water's circles

**WATER'S CIRCLES**

Dukes moved silently inside the kitchen, preparing dinner: soup, carp (buttermilk fried carp fillets, uncle Jesse's famous recipe, Enos' favorite one) and hushpuppies.

"It's a lot worse than I thought," Daisy's words broke the silence, reflecting everybody's thought.

"And it's why we're goin' to do our best to make Enos feel at home. So, smile and don't act as if it's a funeral. If Enos sees you right now, he'd be saddened and confused. He doesn't know we know everything, and we wouldn't be happy of our secret research. You said today he seemed fine, and happy, and it means he's somehow learning to put aside his memories and bad feelings about what happened to him, and for sure WE're NOT goin' to awake those feelings up."

"You're right, uncle Jesse," Bo nodded, walking to the cupboard and opening it, "but I can't help but feeling angry to… whomever hurt Enos, and to whomever didn't protect him… colleagues, protesters… Enos didn't deserve it."

"WE didn't protect him," Daisy sat on a chair, her eyes down to her lap, "if I had understood something was wrong, maybe…"

"Daisy, it's not your fault, it's nobody's fault. We couldn't know what's goin' on, and it's pointless to keep on thinking about all these IF, so stop blame yourself for something you're not responsible of," uncle Jesse turned to Bo, "and you, rage isn't the right answer."

"This morning Enos looked fine, yeah, but I don't think one month is enough to forget such things," Luke's sad words.

Uncle Jesse looked at Luke, thoughtfully, "I think you can understand Enos better than anybody else, Luke, because of your time in Vietnam, so, try your best to help him."

Her uncle's words slapped Daisy: she knew uncle Jesse was right, there were things men preferred to talk to each other instead of to women, and Enos talked about the beating to Bo and Luke and not to her 'cause he was probably too proud to show her his discomfiture _("You should think of my job not as a rival but as my way to protect you… and to be worthy of you,"_ his words that day: was he thinking he wasn't worth of her 'cause of his being beaten during his job?), or simply he didn't want to worry her. She knew Enos loved her, she's always known it, and she knew Enos was a close friend of Bo and Luke, but she didn't like to realize that, maybe, Bo and Luke could be a better help than her for Enos.

Daisy's mind went to her younger days, when Enos decided to enter Police Academy, with everyone's surprise (a moonshiner's son becoming a cop), and with Luke's rage; Daisy remembered Luke and Enos having a quarrel when Enos told them his decision (or, it was better to say, Luke shouting his rage to Enos, talking about a betrayal, and Enos remaining silent, his head and eyes down). At that time Enos and Luke were 17 years old, she was 14 (just a young girl, unable to enter into a fight between young men and close friends, male friendship) and Bo 12 years old (still a child); she recalled how much that quarrel saddened her (Luke was his older and beloved cousin, and Enos her best friend, the first boy showing her his affection and attention) and how much it shocked Bo (confused by that break between two figures he loved… even if in a different way and with a different deepness, two figures he looked at, from his lower position, with a great admiration); both she and Bo didn't want to find themselves in the awkward position to have to choose between Luke and Enos, 'cause, even if their decision was expected (family is family), it would have crashed them, and, along the years, they would have blamed Luke for that broken friendship, to the point to weaken their family, too. Despite uncle Jesse's attempt to explain to Luke that Enos had his reasons to become a cop, and it wasn't a betrayal, Luke didn't talk to Enos 'till he left Hazzard to reach the Police Academy, and few after Luke too had to leave, but, after his coming back from Vietman, he was more mature and he seemed to accept Enos' being a deputy (in Luke's mind probably a new idea about what's duty and what wearing a uniform meant), finally understanding uncle Jesse's words; when Luke and Bo (Bo no more a child but a young man, turning from Luke's little cousin to Luke's best friend… and sort of brother) were sentenced to probation, and Enos took his part in their arrest, fortunately Luke didn't blame Enos of anything (at that time, SHE was angry to Enos because of his putting duty above all, even if, since Dukes were moonshiners, then, he simply did his duty), and, along the years, uncle Jesse's wise words about the importance of having a friend inside the Law became true: Enos was their eyes and ears in the Hazzard corrupted Law, sometimes voluntarily and sometimes involuntarily (but with Enos was difficult to understand what's the limit between voluntarily and involuntarily), and that sort of strange balance between being friends and foes started (Enos trying to help Dukes against Boss' schemes, knowing they were innocent, Boss taking advantage of Enos' naivety and sense of duty, and Dukes trying to avoid Enos had troubles with Rosco and Boss, along numberless shucks and jives, chases and arrests).

Daisy sighed, her mind still to those times, telling herself she wasn't Enos' closest relation, after all: she loved Enos and Enos loved her, but her family too had a great importance in Enos' life, and she should've accepted Enos preferred to talk with Bo and Luke about some things instead of with her. It wasn't a matter of being a better help for Enos, it wasn't a competition: they had different roles, she could help Enos in a way uncle Jesse (a fatherly figure, for Enos), Bo and Luke (Enos' best friends) couldn't, and vice versa.

Clouds covered the sun, and rain started to hit violently the kitchen's window.

* * *

Rain, the first rain of that early fall, summer's goodbye to Hazzard's fields, rain hitting the patrol car's windscreen as Enos drove to the farm.

Rain ticking on the patrol car's roof, that ticking piercing Enos' ear, remembering him that same tickling on July 16th: what a strange thing, remembering the sound of the rain on a roof as you're dying because of a severe beating, violent rain after a hot day, as sometimes happens in summer.

It was the first time he heard the rain since that day (maybe it rained when he stayed in the Hospital, but at that time he wasn't aware of things around him because of sedatives), and its effect hit him as a baton's blow.

He stopped the car, catching his breath, and, not standing anymore that evil ticking, he came out the car, sitting near a tree, his back against the trunk while the rain lashed him, looking at the car in front of him and trying to push away the terrific images and feelings overwhelming him.

* * *

"He's here," Daisy ran to the living room's door as soon as she heard Enos' car stopping in front of the farm.

"Enos, sugar," her smile fading when she opened the door, she turned to the kitchen, calling for help, "Uncle Jesse! Luke! Bo!"

"Enos, what happened? You're soaked!" uncle Jesse came closer Enos, scared and worried not by Enos being soaked but by his absent look.

"I… Just the rain. I… don't like rain. That day, too…"

Luke and uncle Jesse looked at each other, a knowing and serious look, whereas Daisy and Bo's shocked eyes were still fixed on Enos.

"Luke, fill the bathtub with hot water," uncle Jesse's eyes moved from Luke to Enos, "and you, Enos, look at me," his hands gently resting on Enos' shoulders.

Enos had a deep breath as his look slowly focused on uncle Jesse, losing the previous emptiness, "Hi uncle Jesse, I hope I'm not late for dinner. This rain…" he shook his head, looking down at the floor, "… confused me. I'm sorry. I didn't want to worry you. Now I feel better."

"The bathtub is ready," Luke came out the little bathroom, "Come on, Enos, you're shaking like a leaf. Have a hot bat 'till the dinner is ready."

Daisy woke up from her shocked state, she came closer Enos and she simply hugged him, her head on his shoulder, no words to say.

"Thanks Luke. I appreciate it," Enos nodded, his voice soft.

She looked at Enos walking to bathroom, the door closing behind him, and she walked to her uncle, resting her head on his shoulder as he put his arm around her waist, "Oh uncle Jesse," her voice cracking.

"He had the same empty look of that day, at the pond, after the crash," Bo's first words, his worried eyes lingering from Luke to uncle Jesse and Daisy, "but… this morning he was fine!"

"He needs more time, a LOT of time to recover from what he faced," Luke patted gently on Bo's shoulder, "so, finish to prepare dinner and try to give him something good to focus on. I don't know what's the matter with rain, but… I suppose the day he was beaten it rained. I bet a violent storm hit L.A. that day, a sudden and violent rain as today."

Uncle Jesse gently parted from Daisy, heading to the boys' room and coming back with dry clothes in his hands, "Daisy, help Bo and Luke to cook dinner, please," then he walked to the bathroom, knocking at the door, "Enos, may I come in?"

From the other side of the door, Enos' muffled voice answered uncle Jesse; when uncle Jesse opened the door, Daisy glanced inside: she saw Enos' shoulders as he was sitting into the bathtub, his protruding blade shoulders and spine marking his thinness and weakness.

* * *

Sitting in the bathtub, his arms wrapped around his bent legs and his chin on his knees, the water covering him up to his chest, he stared, hypnotized, at small drops falling from the closed faucet and forming circles into the water, that gentle trickling the only sound around him 'till uncle Jesse's knocking at the door.

"Some dry clothes."

Enos turned to the older man, reading on his face worrisome and embarrassment.

"Enos, if you want to talk… whatever you want to say… I'm here. I don't want to force you, but… remember I'm here… we're here."

"Thanks, but I don't want to talk about anything, right now," his voice calm but firm as he kept on looking at uncle Jesse, the man's look turning from worrisome to sadness.

When uncle Jesse left, he turned again to the circles in the water, circles reflecting his thoughts as he wondered why everything was so difficult.

Up and down. Up and down. Every time he was finally up, grabbing a pleasant feeling, an opposite force pushed him down, and the more he was up the more his falling down was rough and painful.

What's his future? Spending the rest of his life on that rollercoaster? Reaching, definitively, that "up"? Falling down, definitively, unable to stand up again?

He felt like if his energy was flowing away; he felt like a wet and wringed rag. And he knew it wasn't just 'cause of his physical injuries, since he was feeling stronger and stronger after his coming back from L.A. (not strong as before his leaving, of course), and pain was becoming less frequent.

His body was healing, slowly, but not his mind.

He was scared.

He was angry to himself because of his inability to stand up, he was angry to himself because of his weakness, and he was angry to himself because he wasn't able to hate people who shattered him; he was angry to himself but not to people who betrayed him in the worst way, to the point that, at the end, he betrayed himself.

The smell of fried fish and hushpuppies reached him, and his stomach grumbled, his body's signal he was still alive, his impulse to the "up".

He stood up and he grabbed a towel, following that vital impulse and wondering for how many times, again, he'd have stood up after a fall.

Walking to the door, he told himself that someone unable to hate, like him, was unable to defend himself; he told himself that someone who is unable to defend himself is unable to defend people around him.

He told himself he was a useless cop.

When, few after, during dinner (a peaceful and quiet dinner, Dukes trying their best to make him feel at home and managing to make him laugh from time to time), he told Dukes he was thinking to resign, becoming a civilian, Dukes looked at him in shock.

* * *

_LOS ANGELES – FLASHBACK_

When he opened his eyes, in that Hospital's bed, two men were looking at him: detectives' outfit. He sighed, knowing they were going to ask him what happened.

If he hadn't been trapped in that bed, he would've stood up, walking away.

He listened to their questions, his eyes closed, answering them as they wrote his words on their notebooks.

They forced him to remember everything of that day, day coming out from the fog after several day spent in I.C.U., unable to answer to anybody.

Question after question.

"Did you see them?"

"I was blindfolded." Nausea.

"Did you hear their voices? What did they tell you?"

"Nothing, they didn't say a word." Headache.

"How did they hurt you?"

Not that question! He wanted to run away. He opened his eyes and he looked at the detectives, the one with cold blue eyes and the other one with deep dark eyes.

He told them about the beating, everything about the beating except the most important thing.

"I think they hit me with… baseball bats."

Cold sweat as he observed the two detectives, their eyes lingering on him, and he couldn't understand if they were satisfied by his answer.

Cold eyes.


	13. Closed window

**CLOSED WINDOW**

"WHAT?"

Dukes looked at Enos, his words about resignation shocking them.

"Wait, wait, Enos…," Luke glanced at his family before to go on, "Resignation is a… strong thing to say. I think you should ponder on it."

"Luke's right," Bo's turn to talk to Enos after a brief nod to Luke, "maybe now you're feeling a bit … weak… because of your staying in Hospital," a brief but meaningful glance to the other members of his family, a way to let them know he wasn't going to reveal to Enos what they found in the "Los Angeles Time", obviously, "and… it's normal. You shouldn't talk about resignation, but about… convalescence. Ask Boss to give you some time to rest."

"And if Boss won't give you some time to rest, I'll talk to him," uncle Jesse nodded, "After a convalescence you'll feel better, so take your time to recover before to decide something so… important."

Daisy stood up, walking behind Enos' chair and bending forward, her cheek gently touching Enos' one, "Bo, Luke and uncle Jesse are right, honey. You're a cop, it's your life, it's what you told me just few days ago… about not being yourself anymore if you undressed your uniform. You can't be anybody else but a cop, and you know it. So, stop talking about being a civilian. I really can't see you as a civilian."

"We're used to see you in uniform, and we want to see you as Hazzard's deputy. Beside, don't forget you're the only honest cop here, you're the only one we can trust. We don't want to have another Billy Coogan-like deputy," Luke too stood up, walking by Daisy's side and patting on Enos' shoulder, "if you don't want to be a deputy anymore for yourself, well, do it for your best friends, and for the town too. Folks like you, Enos, and you know it," Luke's thought back to his rage when Enos decided to become a cop, so many years ago, a friend blaming a friend of betrayal: a lot of things happened, since then, and now Luke had a total different idea of the meaning of wearing a uniform and of what duty was, and a new and different respect for his old friend.

His eyes on his dish, Enos listened silently to his friends, "Yeah, you're right but… what if I won't be able to… do my job anymore. I mean… you saw what happened at the pond, and at the Boar's Nest," he shook his head, smiling sadly, "I don't know if a convalescence will be enough, and if…"

"Have a try, "uncle Jesse interrupted him, "don't take such an important decision so suddenly. You needed time to recover, but you went back to work soon after your coming back from L.A., and now you're still weak."

"Maybe you're right, uncle Jesse. Forget about it, I won't talk anymore about resignation. Sorry, I was just… tired, and confused... and…" he shook his head, "forget about it."

Uncle Jesse's sharp eyes stared in Enos' face, trying to find a contact with Enos' elusive eyes, "And… what? What's bothering you, Enos? It isn't just a matter of weakness, is it?"

Bo, Luke and Daisy held their breath; only uncle Jesse had that ability to be at the same time so soft and direct. They knew their uncle's way to push them to open up without let them feel any pressure. Wise and caring uncle Jesse, used to be both a father-like figure for them and, after aunt Lavinia's departure, a mother-like figure too, mixing strength and sweetness, reproach and comfort, carrot and stick.

"It's that… I don't know…" Enos had a pause, his eyes still focused on his dish, but it was pretty clear he wasn't looking at the dish.

Uncle Jesse waited for Enos' words, not pushing him, and Enos kept on talking after that brief but thoughtful pause.

"…it's that, I don't know what's the sense of being a cop," his fingers played with the fork, "bad things happens no matter what I do or I don't. It's pointless. I can't stop… bad things. Everything I do is pointless."

Foggy words, if Dukes hadn't already known what happened to him in L.A., but words now with a strong meaning: Enos was losing his trust in his job, a job that was his life, and losing the trust in the thing that's always been the most important thing for him was the worst thing that could happen to him. And Dukes knew it.

Daisy, Bo and Luke looked scared and saddened at their uncle, aware it was a really tricky and thorny talking: only uncle Jesse could find the right words without let Enos understand they knew everything about what happened to him in L.A. A difficult balance between say and not say. Only uncle Jesse could find the right words to heal Enos' sense of uselessness.

A difficult challenge, and uncle Jesse faced it.

"Enos, you're a honest and straight man, an idealist. I know you since you were a child and I know about your idealism and your efforts to do always the right thing. Anyway, you should understand you can't change the World: the World is violent, corrupted, and … rotten. It's the bitter truth. BUT, though you can't change the World, you can prevent the World changes you, you can prevent the World turns you in a disappointed cop, a disappointed man. A dreaming idealist wants to change the World in something better, whereas the realistic and wise idealist understands that the most important thing is not let the World change him because of disappointment, the most important thing is keep on doing the right thing no matter what: sometimes you'll win, changing things in better, and sometimes you'll… lose, but… it's not a discomfiture. The real discomfiture is to let the World change you, accepting the wrong things and not even try to oppose to them. If any idealist stops to do the right thing, the World would be worse and worse. It's what I've always taught to my nephews: do the right thing, not because doing the right thing has its convenience (sometimes doing the right thing has no convenience but just troubles), but simply 'cause… it's the right thing to do. Protect innocents (family, friends, and strangers too), fight for the truth and for the justice, it's always been Dukes' way to live, and you, as a cop, have a special position in order to reach these goals, 'cause you have weapons more powerful than us. It's why, knowing you, I've always thought of your being a cop as a gift for this County, no matter if your job had pushed you against us, from time to time."

Enos slowly looked up at uncle Jesse, in his eyes surprise (happy surprise for being understood in his confusion and disappointment), sadness (sad awareness of his weakness against the World) and pride (prideful confidence in the meaning of his job).

Uncle Jesse won his challenge, and Daisy sighed in relief, "Everything will be OK, sugar, and we'll help you."

"Thanks," a gentle blush and a shy smile on Enos' face, "Thank you all, I really appreciate it."

Everybody in the kitchen had a deep and relieved sigh.

"And now, sugar, what do think about my apple pie? I know you like it, and I cooked it for you," Daisy walked to the oven, opening it and taking the cake from it, "soup, fried fish, hushpuppies, and… apple pie; I didn't plan to cook it, but I found the time to do it," no mention she cooked it as she was waiting for him, worried for his delay, her way to keep her mind occupied 'till his arrival, vain attempt.

Enos looked at her with a dreamy smile, as many times before, "A perfect ending for a perfect dinner. Thank you."

Daisy laughed, holding him a plate with a piece of cake, "the first piece is for you," looking at him as he ate the first bit and then turning pale as she saw him stopping, his eyes tearful and a strange look on his face: was he breaking down? Was he going to burst out crying? If he had let out his pain it'd have been a good thing for him, but a painful thing for her.

"Daisy, I'm not a cook, nor a gastronomic critic, but… ding dang, Dais, I think you used salt instead of sugar!"

Daisy needed some time to realize Enos' unexpected words, "WHAT?", her cheeks turning red and her ears burning as her cousins and uncle burst out in a sonorous laugh. She turned to her family, Bo with his head backward in his usual open and extroverted laughing, Luke laughing and shaking his head at the same time in his usual more quiet way to show his emotions, and uncle Jesse laughing as he had a lot of fun, one of the funniest moment of his life, his eyes sparkling.

"Hey, stop laughing this way. It isn't… fair!" Daisy gently punched Bo's shoulder then she turned to Enos, "Enos, tell them it isn't fair to…" to find out he too was laughing in his shy way, his funny laugh.

"You're not a cook, Enos, and neither is Daisy."

"BO!" Daisy punched again Bo's shoulder, a stronger punch, but at the end offence and shame yielded to the joyful and funny atmosphere, and her clear laugh added to his family's and Enos' ones.

* * *

Quiet atmosphere.

Sank into the couch, Daisy observed Enos and uncle Jesse playing draughts while Bo and Luke read a cars' magazine sitting near her.

She was too much tired to read (she read too much, in that afternoon) or to do anything else, but she enjoyed that pleasant domestic moment, grateful to that family, grateful to her two caring cousins and to her wise uncle. And grateful to the straight man sitting in front of her uncle, an idealist, no better word to describe him, no better word to describe the man she loved, a reason to love him even more.

She smiled and she turned to the window, the rain still ticking on it and forming a web of rivulets.

Rain.

She recalled Enos' arrival at the farm, his scared and confused eyes, and that image was like a lash.

"_I suppose the day he was beaten it rained. I bet a violent storm hit L.A. that day, a sudden and violent rain as today." _Luke's right: a brief research in the newspapers hidden in her bedroom (in the copy of July 16th, more precisely), while Enos was having a hot bath, to find a confirmation to Luke's supposition.

She was worried about him driving back to the town under that rain, so she stood up and she walked to him. After uncle Jesse's challenge (won), her challenge, now.

She gently rested her hand on Enos' shoulder, "Enos, it's still raining, and roads are dangerous. I'd be more quiet if you're goin' to stay here for the night," her best and sweetest smile as he turned to her and then to the rain outside the window, a shadow crossing his eyes as her heart skipped a beat. A transient shadow followed by surprise, the surprise to find out rain wasn't so scaring, after all.

"I'd like to stay here, Daisy, but it isn't fair to let Bo or Luke sleep on a folding bed, so I'm goin' to stay only if you let me sleep on the couch or on the folding bed."

"Nobody's goin' to stay on the couch or on the folding bed, honey, but you're goin' to stay in the guestroom," she smiled, relieved, challenge partially won.

"But you said it's full of odds and ends… so…"

"I tidied up some days ago, just in case…"

"You really have an obsession for tidy up, Daisy," he smiled amused and grateful, making her laugh.

Challenge won. Daisy walked back to the couch, sinking into it, her eyes still on Enos, a satisfied and loving smile on her face.

Rain kept on knocking at the window, an angry knocking, but nobody wanted to open to it, and Enos, focused on playing draughts, seemed totally unaware of that call, scaring lightning and flashes in the sky turning into harmless and poetic silver between stars.

* * *

**This chapter needs some final notes:**

**- I was planning to write of the night of Enos at the farm in a whole chapter, but, as I started to write it, I realized it was too long, so I had to split it into two parts. Besides, the sense of this story is in this chapter, so I couldn't water down this fundamental thing in a long long chapter. **

**- no L.A. flash-back, at the end. I didn't forget the flash-back (sometimes I'm clumsy but not to this point), but take this chapter and the next one as a sort of "bridge" to the second part of the story, this first part showing you what happened in L.A. (no reason to pull out it) and the second part... did someone say I was planning one or two twists? I'll show something more about L.A. in a different way than flash-backs.**

**OK, some serious words, now: It's a chapter really meaningful, to me, 'cause in this chapter there's MY idea of World and MY idealism (reflecting Enos' idealism) through uncle Jesse's words. It's the chapter that explains the REAL meaning of this story, it's WHY I'm writing this story. I don't know if you really like it, but, for me, writing a story is not just a matter of "writing a story", but it's my way to "dig up", through characters, my values, emotions, and perspective about life. It's why I write, after all.**

**Hope you're enjoying the story, and THANK to everyone is reading and reviewing it. I appreciate it :-))**


	14. Hot milk

**HOT MILK**

In her bedroom, Daisy rolled on her back and had a deep sigh, her eyes on the ceiling. She listened to the rain pelting down outside the window, her mind to Enos: was he sleeping or was he staring at the guestroom's ceiling, scared by the rain?

"_The day he was beaten it rained"_

Luke's words came to her mind, followed by everything about the beating, the few things (too much, for her, anyway) the journalist wrote in "The Los Angeles Time". She thought of the newspapers hidden under her bed, strange and annoying presence in her room.

_Police officer, Enos Strate, 33, of Hazzard County, seriously assaulted by protesters._

She had another deep sigh and she cuddled up under the blankets, closing her eyes and forcing herself to sleep, trying to erase those words from her mind.

_Police are investigating after protesters kidnapped a policeman for three hours and gave him a severe beating. A police spokesman said: "The cop was freed after officers in riot gear stormed a disused small factory where he was being held. A police investigation is ongoing."_

Slap after slap, those phrases and the terrific images they were bringing with them were hurting her like violent slaps.

___Police are appealing to the community to help identify who was responsible._

She sat up and she switched on the lamp on the night table: she wanted to forget about those phrases but at the same time she was driven to them. She got up and she knelt near the bed, taking some copies of "The Los Angeles Time", copies after July 16th, skimming the news about the riots.

_The officer is in severe pain. _

Her tears started to fall on the newspaper, and she had to stop, torn apart. How could Enos keep for himself all that pain and horror? It was like a nightmare, and the more she thought about it the more she wanted to shout. She promised to herself she'd have burnt all those newspapers, tomorrow, she'd have burnt all of them, she knew enough, she knew too much; but, in the deep of her heart, she knew she wouldn't have kept that promise and she would have read those newspapers again and again, trying to understand WHY something like that happened. Those newspapers were going to become her obsession, and she knew it. She regretted her idea to read them, but at the same time she was aware it was the only way to know what happened to Enos in order to help him in the best way.

Enos… if it was so painful for her, she couldn't image how painful was for him.

_He underwent more than six hours of surgery to treat internal injuries. He is expected to survive, the chief said._

She couldn't stay in her bedroom anymore.

She opened the door and she walked to the kitchen, but she stopped in the middle of the living room, her eyes on the guestroom's door.

Was Enos sleeping?

In the darkness of the living room, she reached that door, forgetting about the kitchen. Her hand grabbed the door-handle and she opened the door, slowly, eyeing carefully his bed.

She needed some time to get used to the darkness then she silently walked to his bed, looking down at him: he was sleeping peacefully, lying on his belly, his hands under his pillow, as he was hugging it; blankets covered him up to his waist, his back covered only by the white t-shirt he was wearing.

She remembered his protruding spine and blade shoulders while he was having a bath, transient but intense image; she had a shiver, she didn't know if because of a blast from the window or because of that image, and she gently covered him up to his shoulders.

He didn't move, he just had a deeper breath.

_Doctors estimated the officer's injuries could keep him from returning to the street for up to four months, though he may be able to resume light duties in half that time._

Daisy fought against the desire to hug him, but she didn't want to wake him up. Wrapping her arms around her in a lonely hug, a pointless substitute of the hug she longed for, she walked back to the door, her only way to run away from her impulse to sit on his bed, bending forward and hugging him.

When she reached the kitchen, her arms still wrapped around her chest, she found her family sitting around the table.

Uncle Jesse looked at her, "Is he sleeping?", his voice a whisper.

She nodded, "Yeah, why are you awake?", whisper answering another whisper.

"We're awake for the same reason," Bo stood up and took some cups from the cupboard, "we can't hide to ourselves we're shocked about what we read on those newspapers. And about Enos' confusion when he came here, this evening."

"Sit down and have a cup of hot milk, Daisy," Luke pointed at the chair near him, "Come on. If Enos is sleeping it's better to let him sleep, right now."

Sitting at the kitchen's table, Daisy stared at the cup filled of hot milk, enjoying its scent and its warmth, "Thanks. I need it."

Dukes sipped their milk, silently.

"He was kidnapped for three hours by protesters during the riots, and he suffered a severe beating. He underwent more than six hours of surgery to treat internal injuries," Daisy broke that silence, her words exploding in the kitchen like a bomb even if she was whispering, "I read it in those newspapers, few ago. I skimmed some news after the July 16th, and…," she shook her head.

Uncle Jesse's hand squeezed gently her shoulder, "Daisy, don't read anymore those news, we know what we had to know. Don't torture yourself with those details."

Daisy nodded, "You're right, uncle Jesse."

"And now, go to bed. We need sleep," uncle Jesse left the kitchen and Bo and Luke followed him, their empty cups in the sink, everyone reaching his bedroom, except Daisy; she turned off the light and she sat again at the table, her eyes on the cup in front of her, a cup still half-full of tepid milk.

She didn't know how much she stayed her, her hands around the cup with, now, cold milk, when some steps woke her up from her thoughts, steps of bare feet, and she turned to those steps thinking he was Bo or Luke.

"Enos, sugar, are you awake?" she looked surprised at Enos as he rubbed his eyes, yawning and sitting in front of her.

"Milk party? You should have invited me," he smiled.

Moved by his smile she stood up, "You aren't late for the party, honey," she walked to the fridge, taking the milk's bottle and pouring it in a little pot. Her eyes on the milk waiting for it boiled, she opened the cupboard, "Sugar or honey in the milk?"

He shrugged, "Whatever you want, thanks, no salt, anyway."

"Enos Strate!," she turned to him, her hands on her hips, "you're really…," she shook her head, laughing.

"Honey, I prefer honey, thanks," he kept on smiling, amused by her reaction.

Finally sitting in front of him, Daisy observed him sipping the hot milk, slowly, his eyes more and more lost into something she couldn't see after any sip.

"I need it, I really need it, thanks," his voice a whisper, more to himself than to her.

The window trembled after a violent thunder, and Enos went pale.

"_The day he was beaten it rained. I bet a violent storm hit L.A. that day_."

Daisy's right hand reached Enos' left forearm, "Enos, you're in Hazzard, now. You're safe."

A gentle red on his cheeks chased the previous paleness out as he looked down at her hand on his forearm, "I know it. I know it. But…" he shook his head.

Daisy waited, the same way uncle Jesse waited for Enos' words during dinner.

"You know… the day I was injured… it rained, and it's why today…," another pause.

Yeah, she already knew that day it rained, but she couldn't say it to him; she couldn't tell him how many things she knew. Her heart raced in her chest. Maybe because of the late hour, maybe because of the hot milk, maybe because of her, or maybe because he needed to, he was slowly opening up (another little revelation, as the night he slept in Bo and Luke's bedroom).

"It's strange," his fingers gently ticked on the cup, "but… that day I remember perfectly the rain's sound on the ambulance's roof…"

Daisy's hand squeezed his forearm.

"… and then on the ER's windows. I've always liked rain. It relaxes me. I've always liked staying in my car reading comics while it rains, but… now…," he looked up at her, "what if I won't be able to like any more rain's sound… and a lot of other things?"

In his eyes fear and pain, and she had to swallow against the lump in her throat before to talk, "Enos. You need time, but… you'll find again the joy for things you used to love, and… I think you'll love them even more. I'll help you, Enos."

He stood up and he walked to the window, his forearm slipping away from Daisy's hand.

"I'm scared. I don't want to remember that day every time it rains. What if…," he rested his forehead on the cold window.

"Enos," by his side her arms slowly enclosed his waist, "Enos, please, turn to me, look at me."

He turned to her, her arms wrapped around his waist, her eyes in his eyes, "Enos, I'll help you to forget those days, I'll help you with new memories."

Her lips touched gently his ones in a shy and sweet kiss, a kiss becoming deeper and deeper. When they parted they were panting, surprised of the deepness of that kiss.

"Los Angeles is the past. It's away from here, far away, Enos."

He sat down on the floor, Daisy by his side, his head on her shoulder and her arm around his chest, his bare feet near her ones.

When uncle Jesse, Bo and Luke entered the kitchen, early in the morning, Enos was sleeping crouched on the floor, his head on Daisy's lap, and Daisy was caressing his hair.

* * *

_LOS ANGELES_

"_The Los Angeles Time" editorial office_

"He went back to his town, Hazzard," Catherine Burns walked in the wide room, she couldn't stay still, "last month. So, I can't interview him!"

His colleague glanced at her, "You're obsessed by that cop. It's an old news. Forget about it."

"There's something more. I know it. They prevented me to talk to him when he stayed in the Hospital, but… I saw him, just a glance in the E.R., a brief glance, and… how can they say he was beaten with baseball bats? I SAW the marks on his body, and I KNOW what those marks were. I can distinguish marks from baseball bats and from cops' batons! And… what a bitter irony of fate: did the protesters kidnap and beat up just the cop who testified in support of the man who claimed police brutality? And didn't police find any culprit of the beating? Come on! Do you understand? It'd be a scoop. Image the title: Police officer faced retaliation after testifying against others in a case of police brutality."

"Your scoop is far away L.A., now, just forget about it. Interesting scoop, but… there are a LOT of other things happening here, now."

"Hazzard County isn't at the other side of the World. And I've already bought the flight ticket to Atlanta."

Catherine's colleague stared at her, "OK, have a try, but I don't think that cop's going to confess you he was kidnapped and beaten by his colleagues, IF it really happened, anyway."


	15. Strange fate

**STRANGE FATE**

"Daisy…," uncle Jesse stared at Daisy sitting on the floor, Enos's head on her lap as he was sleeping deeply, "did Enos sleep on the floor?"

"We were talking, after drinking a cup of hot milk, and Enos sat down and then he fell asleep, and… I didn't want to wake him up," Daisy looked down at Enos' hair, her hand still caressing him, a gentle red on her cheeks as she realized how much that situation was strange and awkward. Her voice woke Enos up, whose eyes focused slowly on the room around him as he was trying to understand where he was and how he arrived there, and then why uncle Jesse, Bo and Luke were looking at him that way.

"Possum on a gum bush," he sat up rubbing his eyes, "Sorry… I didn't realize I…," he looked at her, "Sorry Daisy."

Freed from his weight, Daisy stretched her legs and she stood up, "It isn't your fault, sugar, I should've woken you up instead of letting you sleep on the floor. MY fault."

"Nobody's fault," uncle Jesse smiled, his smile easing that strange atmosphere, "and now, get dressed and have breakfast."

Daisy headed to her bedroom and Enos to the guestroom, whereas uncle Jesse, Bo and Luke looked at each other.

"Do you think Enos told Daisy about what happened in L.A., uncle Jesse? Is it what they talked about?" Bo sat down, yawning.

"Daisy's goin' to tell us what Enos told her, don't worry, Bo," Luke moved inside the kitchen, helping uncle Jesse to cook breakfast, "after Enos leaves, she's goin' to tell us everything."

* * *

Catherine Burns was impatiently waiting for the bus at the bus stop, tired after the flight and the first bus bringing her from Atlanta to Hazzard County (a bus touching Hazzard County's border to head to Choctaw County), now waiting for a second bus that would have brought her to the town. Darn taxi's strike.

She looked at the landscape around her, so different from L.A.: no high buildings but high trees and mountains, no sea's scent mixed with smog but pines' scent mixed with wet soil's scent, no horns but silence, no asphalt but dust. She felt totally out of place, though the landscape was relaxing and beautiful, but she was too much used to L.A.'s chaos; she thought if Enos Strate, born in that place, had felt so out of place in L.A. the same way she was feeling out of place in Hazzard County.

* * *

Her hands under the water's jet of the sink, Daisy stared at the water flowing into the sink's drain. That night she didn't sleep at all, and she felt like if she was moving underwater, everything deadened and slow around her.

She yawned, wondering if Enos was tired as she was. When he left the farm, after breakfast, he seemed fine, and, despite his previous idea of asking for a period of convalescence (fortunately no other word about resignation, from him), he decided to go to work and have another try, and Daisy wasn't sure if it was a good or a bad thing. Since his leaving, she lazed around inside the farm, answering her uncle's and cousins' questions about what she talked about with Enos and how he ended up sleeping on the floor; she lazed around unable to do anything, and even now, after lunch, she seemed unable to wash up.

"Have a nap, Daisy," uncle Jesse's answered her umpteenth yawn.

A nap, good idea, "Good idea, uncle Jesse." She wiped her hands and she walked to the living room, anticipating the pleasure of a good nap.

"We're goin' to the town for shopping. Do you want to come with us, Daisy?" Bo opened the door, ready to go out, his eyes on her and a knowing smile on his face, an equal smile on Luke's face, "and we're goin' to stop at the Police Department, or wherever Enos is, if you want to."

The nap could wait. "Of course I want to come with you," she walked to the door, forgetting of her bed and of her nap.

Uncle Jesse glanced at the closing door, shaking his head and smiling, "Youth. And love."

* * *

A roar interrupted Catherine Burns' reflections, and an orange car stopped in front of the bus stop.

"Good morning, madam. Do you need a ride to the town? Next bus is at 4 p.m."

Catherine looked at the blond guy who's driving that strange car and then at her watch: 2 p.m. Two hours? She observed the two men and the woman inside the car, wondering if accepting their offer: she was so much used to the big city she was going to refuse politely (not a good thing trust strangers, it was her idea, being born in a city like L.A. and being a crime's reporter) but at the same time she was very tired and she longed for a hot bath and a long sleep in Hazzard's Hotel. Accept or not accept?

"Do you think Enos had lunch?". The woman's sudden question to the brown-haired guy and his soft and caring answer ("Enos isn't goin' to starve, don't worry") pushed her to a final decision: Enos wasn't a common name and Hazzard County was a small County, so they're probably talking of Enos Strate (unless Enos was a very common name in that place out of the World).

Reporter's instinct: she was there to talk to Enos Strate and to know EVERYTHING about him, and she could have some information from those men and that woman.

"I'd appreciate a ride to the town, thank you."

Surprised, she stared at the brown-haired man coming out the car through the window (through the window?), walking around the car and reaching her; he politely took her luggage from her hands and he gently put it in the trunk, then he walked again to her, offering his arm and pointing at the window of the back seat, "I'm goin' to help you, madam".

Catherine needed some time to realize what he was telling her, "Through the window?"

"Sorry, but it's the only way to enter The General Lee," the man smiled, amused by her confusion.

The General Lee? Had that car a name? An orange car with a 01 painted on its closed (!) doors and with the confederate flag on its roof?

She regretted to have accepted that ride, but now it was too late (and rude) to refuse, so she let the man help her enter the car… through the window, and she tried to think of it as a funny thing, something to laugh of when she would've come back to L.A, something to talk about with her friends in front of a beer in one of L.A.'s pubs. Beside, if the men and the woman were Enos Strate's friends, she couldn't lose the possibility to talk to them.

Finally sitting in the back seat of the car, she looked at them: the blond guy who's driving the car seemed the youngest of them, he was smiling and he had a gentle look; the brown-haired man was kind but somehow more distant and more serious; the woman was gorgeous but even more distant than the brown-haired man, her eyes focused on the road and her mind clearly elsewhere (her mind to Enos Strate, Catherine supposed due to the woman previous question).

"May I ask you why are you here in Hazzard? You seem coming from a big city, and it's strange to see someone like you in our County," the blond man's eyes, blue eyes, cheerful and kind eyes, looked at her through the rearview mirror, whereas the brown-haired man turned to her, blue eyes too, piercing and clever eyes but gentle eyes; the brunette sitting in the front seat, between the men, kept on looking at the road, unaware of their talking, so Catherine couldn't see her eyes but just her curly and auburn hair.

"My name is Catherine Burns, and I'm a reporter from Los Angeles, I work for The Los Angeles Time," she noticed the men and the woman stiffening, "and I'm looking for Enos Strate. He's a cop, he works here; he's a deputy. Do you know him?"

The abrupt braking made her bump against the front seat; she was right, they knew Enos Strate, and pretty well.

"Why are you looking for Enos?" the woman turned to her so Catherine finally saw her eyes, green hazel eyes, eyes open wide and looking at her in shock.

"Well, I don't know if you know what happened to officer Strate in L.A. I suppose you know everything, since it seems you know him pretty well. He's your friend, isn't he?" Step by step, Catherine pondered on what to say and what not to say, reporter's instinct.

The woman and the men looked at each other, silent but meaningful dialogue, and, at the end, the brown-haired man talked for them all; he was probably the oldest one. She wondered what's their relationship: brothers and sister? Friends? Boyfriend and girlfriend with their best friend?

"We don't know very much. Yeah, Enos is our best friend, and we know something bad happened to him in L.A. but he doesn't want to talk about it. He just talked about a beating and about his staying in Hospital for a long time. Nothing else. We think there's something more, a lot more, but… he avoids to talk about it."

"And we're worried for him," the green hazel eyes showed a spark Catherine knew pretty well: that woman loved Enos Strate, and she was really worried for him.

"May I ask you what's your name and what's your relationship with Enos Strate? It's something really personal… and delicate."

"Sorry madam. My name is Luke Duke, and they're my cousins Daisy Duke and Bo Duke."

Cousins. To her eyes they seemed more brothers and sister than cousins.

"And you're officer Strate's friends, best friends," Catherine's eyes lingered on Daisy Duke, "your best friend or… is he your boyfriend?" Woman's and reporter's intuition.

Daisy Duke looked at her with surprise and then with pride mixed to sweetness, "Yeah, I'm Enos'… fiancée, you may say I'm Enos' fiancée, and Enos' best friend since we were children."

Catherine had a deep sigh: what a strange fate. The first people she met as she arrived in Hazzard: Enos Strate's best friends and his fiancée. She observed them: were they saying the truth? There was no reason to lie, after all, and they seemed honest; she felt she could trust them. But she was still doubtful if reveal something so private and delicate to them.

She looked into Daisy Duke's eyes, teary and worried green hazel eyes of a woman in love. Catherine's heart (woman's heart, emotional heart) coupled with her mind (reporter's mind, pragmatic mind): if she had told them everything about what happened in L.A., it could turn useful to her, at some point. She felt they were protective and caring toward Enos Strate, and she needed them to reach that officer, and the best way to have them by her side was being sincere with them instead of cut off their fondness since the beginning.

"OK, I'm going to tell you everything. And then I'm going to tell you why I'm here."

* * *

Daisy stared at the woman sitting in the back seat of The General Lee: 40 years old, more or less, tall, short and brown straight hair, hazel brown eyes.

Strange fate: a reporter from L.A. looking for Enos. Not good. Her mind went back to the newspapers still hidden in her bedroom: she tried to remember the name of the journalist who wrote those articles about the riots and about Enos' beating, but she didn't remember that name (she didn't even read that name, in effect, her mind obviously focused on something else).

They already knew what she was going to tell them, but they decided (implicit and silent agreement) to pretend they didn't know anything. First: they could know something more from that reporter, something not written in those newspapers. Second: Enos didn't know they knew everything, and if that woman had talked to Enos (no way to stop her, and they knew it) she could have told Enos, some way or another, about their knowing everything (not good).

So, Daisy listened silently to Catherine Burns' words about a man claiming police brutality, about Enos testifying against his colleagues, about the riots after the trial, and about the beating: nothing new, just a cold report, cold but at the same time soft since Catherine Burns didn't linger on thorny and disturbing details, and Daisy was glad of it. Cold reports similar to the ones she read in "The Los Angeles Time", similar style.

"Now, I suppose you're wondering why I'm here. OK, the things I just told you are the same things I wrote in The Los Angeles Time, things everybody knows, public things, and if you had had the opportunity to read The Los Angeles Time, you would've known it… but… I understand you probably don't read The Los Angeles Time, here."

If that conversation hadn't been so dramatic (due to the topic), Bo, Luke and Daisy would've probably burst out laughing, with Catherine's surprise, but unfortunately there was nothing to laugh of.

"I'm here to know from officer Strate something I suspect but I'm not sure of, something REALLY serious. I think that… your friend wasn't kidnapped and beaten by protesters but by… other cops, colleagues. I'm talking about retaliation against the… rat… sorry for the word, not my word, anyway… retaliation against the rat breaking the Blue Wall of Silence. And I think your friend knows perfectly well who beat him up, but… he didn't tell it, or it's been covered up."

Daisy held her breath, and by her side she felt Bo and Luke too holding their breath and stiffening. She looked at Bo and then at Luke, the same shock and paleness on their face.

They were shocked, and horrified, and angry, and… sad.


	16. Between gestures and words

**BETWEEN GESTURES AND WORDS**

Catherine Burns enjoyed the landscape outside the window while Bo Duke drove The General Lee; after the sudden braking and her revelation about the reason of her arrival in Hazzard County the three cousins remained silent, from time to time looking at each other, and she was wondering what's going into their minds. They were shocked, and Catherine understood how close they were to Enos Strate.

Strange fate.

She was eager to ask them about their friend Enos, everything about him, but she was aware it wasn't the best moment for her questions. Moreover, she was going to meet officer Strate, maybe that same day, and she wanted to know more about him not only by his best friends and fiancée but from Hazzard's citizens too.

She had to know everything about the cop who dared to break the LAPD's Blue Wall of Silence, nearly paying that ratting with his life. She could image the impact of his interview in "The Los Angeles time".

Hazzard town. She observed that small square and the buildings surrounding it: so different from Los Angeles.

Her eye caught a uniformed man at the opposite side of the square, and the men and the woman inside the car understood what caught her attention, looking again at each other, somehow disappointed she was going to meet their friend so quickly.

There was no doubt that cop was Enos Strate. She saw him just twice, and his friends' reaction inside the car was a confirmation of his identity beside her memory.

She saw him the day he testified against his colleagues; she remembered his hazel eyes looking down at his hands and his soft voice as the lawyer pressed him with questions about a gun, pushing him to admit that maybe there was a gun but he didn't see it. She remembered him leaving, his head down, along the Courthouse's corridor after the acquittal of his colleagues, his deposition demolished and not trusted. That day she tried to talk to him (she believed in his deposition) but the Police Department built a sort of curtain around him, so she couldn't reach him.

She saw him that dramatic day, as he lied on a stretcher, unconscious and naked (except for a sheet covering him up to his waist), his body showing marks of the violent beating he faced as doctors were bringing him to the operating-table in order to save his life.

It wasn't simple to match that dramatic image with that new calm and daily image, but she recognized him, and she observed him.

His uniform: so different from LAPD's uniform. No black shirt but a sky-blue shirt on black trousers, and a black hat.

His build: he was a tall man, really tall, and pretty muscular (though he seemed slimmer than the man he saw in L.A., no surprisingly after the time spent in Hospital, anyway).

His gestures: he was helping an old woman, carrying her shopping bags to her car. The woman thanked him with a gentle touch on his arm and Catherine could see him blushing and smiling shyly, an awkward and funny smile.

Did that man, simple and gentle man, survive in a city like Los Angeles?

She came out the car and she walked to that cop, his friends following her.

* * *

Daisy's heart beat fast in her chest, both 'cause of that reporter's stunning revelation and 'cause of worrisome about Enos' possible reaction to that intrusive presence.

Was Catherine Burns right? Did Enos' colleagues beat him? Catherine said it was just a supposition, and Daisy, from the bottom of her heart, hoped the reporter was wrong, 'cause she knew Enos enough to understand how much something like that could shatter him. It was much worse than she thought of. She prayed Catherine Burns was wrong.

"Enos Strate?"

The reporter called him, and Daisy observed him turning to the stranger and looking at her with surprise, his surprised look turning into a thoughtful look in his attempt to recall that woman's face (Enos was shy and clumsy, but he had good memory for people's faces, and he surprised her and her family many times in his recalling faces of wanted people). Did he already see her in Los Angeles? Catherine didn't talk about her meeting Enos previously, did she lie to them?

Enos' eyes opened wide for few seconds and he imperceptibly stiffened: his fleeting reaction could pass unnoticed to everybody but not to Daisy, who knew Enos better than anybody else in Hazzard. He was Enos, swinging between excessive manifestations of some emotions (wide and funny smiles, nervous fidgeting, sudden starting in fear, quick and high-pitched talking, plain blushing) and secretive thoughts and emotions; whereas the most part of people read him through his rumbling, clumsy and plain nature, along the years she's learnt to read him through his secretive nature, and it was for sure a deeper way to understand him.

Enos recognized that woman; Daisy was pretty sure he already saw her.

"My name's Catherine Burns," she stretched out her hand to him, "and I'm a reporter of The Los Angeles Time."

He took his hat off and he shook hands with her, "Nice to meet you, madam," an uncomfortable smile on his face, and Daisy caught a soft start as he heard Catherine's name. Not only Enos already saw that woman, but he knew also her name, and Daisy told herself she'd have checked the name of the journalist of "The Los Angeles Time" who wrote the articles about the case of police brutality and about the beating of Enos, though she was already pretty sure to know that name.

_Police are investigating after protesters kidnapped a policeman for three hours and gave him a severe beating. A police spokesman said: "The cop was freed after officers in riot gear stormed a abandoned building where he was being held. A police investigation is ongoing." Police are appealing to the community to help identify who was responsible._

Did Enos read those articles as he was in Hospital? He did it for sure, Daisy felt it, and it was why he knew Catherine Burns' name. Daisy dramatically understood why Enos kept on reading "The Los Angeles Time" after coming back from L.A., she understood what he was looking for: he was looking for articles about that investigation. Both if other cops or protesters beat him (she didn't know it, yet), he had a good reason to look for those articles, though reasons with a different spirit and meaning.

She forced herself to stay calm, fighting back her desire to hug him.

"I'd like to interview you about what happened to you in Los Angeles."

After Catherine's request, Enos glanced at her cousins and then his eyes lingered on her. Since they were with Catherine, and since Catherine came out The General, he was obviously wondering if the reporter told them what happened.

When his eyes met hers, he sighed, and Daisy realized her look was probably so sad to be a clear answer to his doubts. Enos knew they knew, and, despite Daisy's attention to his imperceptibly moves and looks, she didn't understand if his sighing was a sign of disappointment, resignation, or relief (or maybe a mix of all these feelings).

Anyway, he knew they knew everything, so it was pointless to keep on beating about the bush.

She walked closer him, her hand gently touching his forearm, "Enos, Catherine told us about… what happened to you: about the trial against your colleagues, about the riots, and…," Daisy lowered her voice, weighing her words and focusing her attention on every possible revealing gesture or look from him, "… about how you was injured," her hand gently squeezed her forearm, "about how protesters kidnapped you and beat you."

He held his breath and his muscles briefly tensed under her touch when she mentioned the trial and the riots, his eyes into hers, but, when she mentioned the protesters beating him, he looked away with a soft sigh, his tension loosening.

"Uh, it seems you know everything, now. But… I'd have preferred you didn't find out something like that," another uncomfortable smile.

His eyes away from hers, his tension loosening, and his elusive and light talking: Daisy read his terrific secret between his gestures and words.

Protesters weren't responsible of his beating, and Daisy gave herself up, hugging him.

* * *

"Oh sugar." Daisy's arms wrapped around him and she buried her face against his chest.

She knew.

Bo and Luke knew. Enos looked at his best friends, on their face the same sadness he previously saw in Daisy's eyes, mixed with embarrassment: since they knew his pride they could understand how much he'd have liked to avoid to become, to their eyes, "the cop kidnapped and beaten by protesters".

_Officers arriving on the scene found him unconscious. It was apparent Strate had been hit more than once with some blunt object. _

_Officials weren't specific about the injuries the officer suffered, but police said the suspects beat him with baseball bats._

_Police officer Strate is currently in critical but stable condition._

Did that journalist use those words (or something similar) to explain to Daisy, Luke and Bo what happened to him?

He was glad nobody in Hazzard read "The Los Angeles Time", he was glad nobody read those lines about him. He hated when people looked at him with pity, especially his friends.

He felt weak to their eyes. He's always felt weaker than them, unable to take care of himself, and everything happened in L.A. was a discomfiture, a proof of his weakness. Fortunately they couldn't know the truth about who beat him: he only knew it… he only, and who beat him.

Why was that reporter in Hazzard? What did she want to know from him?

* * *

Daisy Duke parted from the cop after a tight and long hug, staying by his side, both her arms wrapped around his arm.

"An interview? Sorry to disappoint you, madam, but I have nothing to say about what happened."

Catherine remembered very well Enos Strate's polite and sincere tone; she stared at his fidgeting, his hat in his hands, remembering the same fidgeting the first time she saw him (another hat in his hands), whereas the second time she saw him he was motionless.

"I'd like to talk to you… privately. Just some questions, and you'll be free to answer me or not."

Careful. She couldn't reveal him what she wanted to talk about, not in the middle of the road.

A delicate topic to face in a quiet and private place and time, and that Daisy Duke skillfully managed to talk to him about her revelations without touching that thorny (and still doubtful) topic: clever and caring woman, that Daisy.

"Please, officer Strate, I should talk to you about some…" she looked carefully at him, "…. news about your beating. News about police investigation."

He turned pale and he looked at her with a mix of shock, fear and curiosity.

She got it: protesters weren't responsible of his beating (she read it in his reaction), and he was now curious to find out what she knew. That curiosity would've pushed him to accept to talk to her.

* * *

News about police investigation: what was that woman talking about?

Since his coming back to Hazzard, he kept on reading the "The Los Angeles Time" looking for those news: betrayed by colleagues and system, he was torn between rage and sadness to understand what level that betrayal could reach, and hope that, at some point, someone like him would've talked in support of him, giving credit to his deposition and paying honor to his integrity.

Betrayed hope.

_On my honor,_

_I will never betray my badge,_

_my integrity, my character,_

_or the public trust._

_I will always have_

_the courage to hold myself_

_and others accountable for our actions._

_I will always uphold the constitution_

_my community and the agency I serve._

Betrayed uniform.

Everything about his time in L.A. came back to his mind with a ravaging force, and he felt a cold grasp around his neck and his legs bending.


	17. Walls

**WALLS**

Enos did his best to control his reaction, slowing his breath down and swallowing against the imaginary cold hand pressing against his throat: he couldn't show his fear and shock to that reporter. He couldn't show it to his friends. To Daisy.

He felt her hand squeezing his forearm, and her soft voice, "Enos? Is everything OK?"

His legs were gently trembling, and he hoped nobody noticed it; he hoped it was just his feeling and not a real trembling.

"We may talk at the Police Station. Now," his voice was hoarse, but he couldn't run away; he had to know what that reporter wanted to tell him, no matter if his legs were trembling. Rosco was out on patrol, so he could talk to that woman privately and with no break.

He glanced at Daisy by his side, trying to wear his most relaxed look. Pitiful and pointless attempt: her hand squeezed even more his forearm as her eyes opened wide; he'd have told her to stop squeezing his forearm 'cause it hurt, but he didn't want to let her know the reason of that easily evoked pain (it was the first time he realized broken bones could hurt for so much time).

"_I'm going to know what she has to say, and then she's going to leave,"_ he walked to the Police Station followed by the reporter whereas Daisy, Bo and Luke remained still, following his brief and meaningful nod and his look, his way to tell them "Everything's OK. Don't worry and wait for me."

Walking away from them he caught Daisy's way to fold her arms and lower her head to show her disappointment and worrisome, whereas Bo and Luke looked at each other.

When they entered the Police Station he approached a chair to his desk, "Please, Madam," he waited for Mrs. Burns sitting down, he took his hat off and he sat in front of her; he observed her taking a small notebook and a pencil from her bag and wearing large glasses. The sight of that notebook gave him a rush of nausea.

"I'm sorry to bother you in your town, Officer…," she seemed doubtful, "Deputy Strate, but there's something important I'd like to know from you. I was at the Courthouse the day you testified against your colleagues, you remember it, don't you?"

Her voice was a bit hoarse and deep (the opposite of Daisy's voice) but anyway a pleasant voice, pleasant despite memories it brought him. He knew her voice, and he knew her eyes behind those large glasses with black frame.

He tried to ease his discomfort gently scratching his nape.

Her eyes and voice: he remembered her eyes staring at him in that room (a lot of eyes staring at him beside hers) and he remembered her voice calling him as he walked along the corridor, leaving the Courthouse; that day, she'd have reached him if some officers hadn't blocked her.

Her name, Catherine Burns: he recalled her name echoing in that corridor and then her name in "The Los Angeles Time".

"Yeah, I remember you."

She nodded, "Well, I'd like to interview you about your deposition, and about what happened after you testified."

Interview? What interview? SHE had to say him something about investigations, not the contrary.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Burns, but… I have nothing to say about it. You were there, that day, so you heard what I said. I've nothing more to say, and if you've come here just to know something more, well, I'm sorry for your useless flight."

She undressed her glasses and she pinched her nose between her right thumb and forefinger, then she put her glasses on again, "Thought the acquittal of your colleagues, I believe in your deposition, and I really think it was a case of police brutality, not the first case in LAPD."

Enos felt the air becoming colder and rarefied inside the room, as they were moving into another dimension. Was that reporter asking him to talk about police brutality in an interview?

He shook his head, "I don't know about other cases. And, I repeat, I already told to judge and jury what I had to tell. I appreciate you've believed in my words, but… I don't see any sense in your… interview," his voice soft and his eyes down on his intertwined fingers in order to avoid his usual fidgeting.

She started to ticking her pencil on the small notebook, and it really annoyed it because it recalled him another ticking; drops of cold sweat rolled along his spine.

"And what about the riots and the beating? Do you want to talk about it?"

"NO!" he couldn't control his high pitch. He held his breath, finding back his control, "I thought you wanted to tell me something about police investigation, whereas now it seems to me you're looking for something different. Beside, you should know pretty well what happened since you wrote all those articles about the riots and about my… medical bulletin," he blushed.

Catherine Burns had a deep sigh, "OK, it's pointless to keep on beating about the bush. Yeah, I know what happened that day, I know… official reports," her voice pointed out the word "official", and the air became even more cold and thin, "and, sincerely, I'm not sure those official reports are the truth," she stared at him, trying to read his features, and Enos froze: what was she talking about? Was it possible she knew the truth about his beating?

"I don't know what you're talking bout, Madam." He was unable to lie, he knew his limit, and he felt his cheeks burning as he tried to pretend self-confidence and indifference.

"I was there, at the Hospital, that day, and I saw you few after you arrived there"

No. No. No! WHY was she recalling him that day?

"I've the feeling you weren't injured by baseball bats, but with cops' batons."

He suddenly stood up walking to the window, feeling the urgency to run away, but he couldn't run away: Bo, Luke and Daisy were still out there, and the scene of him chased by that woman along the square as he's running away would have been embarrassing and unseemly.

He wasn't unable to lie, it's true, but he could be really stubborn in his avoiding to answer unpleasant questions or to talk about unwelcome topics. For sure he wouldn't have talked to any reporter about the truth behind his beating; he wouldn't have let her (and any other reporter) use his words on a newspaper as an attack to LAPD or any other Police Department. His beating was something involving just LAPD.

He was a cop, he believed in his job, and he knew, in the deep of his heart, the most part of cops were honest, like him, and they did their duty, so he would've never let a reporter throw mud at the whole Police Department just because of some bad eggs.

Uncle Jesse was right: his idealism couldn't be destroyed because he faced a dramatic disappointment; it was a ravaging disappointment, and the more he thought about it the more he felt disappointed, but there's no way he was going to throw mud at his colleagues, indiscriminately.

He knew pretty well what that reporter wanted to talk about; she wanted to talk with him about the Blue Wall of Silence, and an article about it would've sapped the public trust in Police.

No way. He wouldn't have let her mix bad eggs with honest cops.

He testified against corrupted cops (a minority) abusing of their power and using excessive violence against someone who couldn't defend himself, no matter if that man was guilty of a crime, and it cost him a lot. It was like testify against his family after the worst betrayal.

He protected citizens.

But… nobody protected him.

* * *

She was right. Looking at him walking nervously to the window Catherine understood, definitely, Enos State was beaten by his colleagues because of retaliation. But she couldn't write it in "The Los Angeles Time" without that's cop plain admission.

He was scared by her questions, and really nervous. She observed him as he looked outside the window, his shoulders stiffened and his look deep and thoughtful; whatever he was thinking of, she decided to give him all the time he needed to, 'cause a wrong question or a excessive insistence in such a delicate moment would've been harmful and would've compromised her possible scoop.

She patiently waited for his words.

He slowly turned to her, serious and self-confident (or, at least, pretending self-confidence), his chin up and his hands on his hips, "Madam, a police investigation is ongoin'. I can't talk to you about an ongoin' investigation. Police business. I'm saddened of your idea of LAPD, and I'm sorry you've wasted your time to come in a small County as Hazzard from L.A."

Catherine couldn't help but thinking that, despite his tall and muscular body, despite his posture, and despite his attempt to look threatening, his eyes betrayed his peaceful and quiet nature. Did that kind man survive in a violent city like L.A.? Where did that man find the courage to oppose to the Blue Wall of Silence? She wasn't able to give a name or an explanation to that strength. Or was it a sort of recklessness or an incredible naivety? That man awoke her curiosity. An interview would've been really interesting.

"And now, I'm sorry but my job's waiting for me."

Their talk was over, and Catherine didn't even try to insist. It'd have been pointless, but she wasn't surrendering, and she changed the subject in order to relax him.

"Whatever happened, you're lucky to have friends like Bo and Luke and a fiancée like Daisy."

She looked amused at him losing that fake self-confident posture and fidgeting.

"My… fiancée?", he blushed, a different blushing than his previous one.

"It's what she told. She's your fiancée, isn't she?"

"I suppose… yeah," he blushed even more and Catherine wondered why it was so strange to him admitting Daisy was his fiancée.

"Your friends and fiancée are really worried for you."

He stiffened, "Did you tell them about your… supposition?"

She shook her head, "No. It's just a supposition, and I avoided to talk about it to them," she felt he wouldn't have been happy to know his friends knew everything, and she didn't want to lose him.

"I don't want you involve my friends in your suppositions, especially since a police investigation is ongoin'. It's not their business. It's not YOUR business," he walked to the desk and he grabbed his hat, "and now, I really have to go back to my job. I'm sorry."

Catherine stood up.

Their talk was definitively over: that apparent simple and naïve man was a wall, a rubber wall.

* * *

Daisy looked at Enos coming out the Police Station, trying to catch any sign of that brief talk.

Brief but intense talk, as she could understand 'cause his stiffness and his blushing: for sure Catherine Burns asked Enos of the beating and of his colleagues, and Enos was showing his discomfort, confirming her the truth in Catherine Burns' words (another confirmation after his reaction when he met Mrs. Burns).

"Enos, everything's OK?" How many times did she ask it to him since his coming back from L.A.? And how many other times was she going to repeat that question?

"I'm OK, don't worry", he briefly stopped in front of her, "I simply don't like to… recall that day, but I'm fine. Gotta go, now. See you," he headed to his patrol car.

At least he admitted it. Now he knew Catherine Burns told her about L.A. he looked more open to talk about it.

When his car left, Catherine Burns came closer her and her cousins.

"So?" Daisy looked into the woman's eyes.

"He avoided the topic. He didn't deny his colleagues beat him up but he hid behind police business. He didn't grant any interview."

Enos' style: Daisy wasn't surprised.

"If you need a lift back to Atlanta's airport, Mrs. Burns…" Bo came closer Catherine.

"Back to Atlanta? Though he isn't going to talk about his colleagues, I could write a good article about his recover away from L.A. I'm here, now, and I won't go back empty-handed."

Daisy stared at Catherine as she walked to the Hazzard Hotel, "Stubborn," she folded her arms, "I regret we gave her a lift to the town."

"She'd have arrived here anyway, our lift or not," Luke shrugged, "and I prefer Enos met that woman with us by his side."

Luke was right, but Daisy didn't feel relieved, "I don't like someone recall Enos what he faced. I should've stopped her."

"Stop her? How? Drowning her into a pond as we were coming here?" Bo looked at her with his amused and sweet smile, then he turned serious, "Seriously, I also don't like that woman's nosing around, but, if she contents of an article about Enos' recover, forgetting about Enos' beating and not bothering him too much, well, that article won't hurt anybody."

"Especially 'cause nobody, here, reads The Los Angeles Time," her arms still folded, Daisy rolled her eyes, and Bo sniggered.

"_He avoided the topic. He didn't deny his colleagues beat him up but he hid behind police business. He didn't grant any interview."_

Daisy sighed, Enos was unable to lie, and, in order to avoid Catherine's questions, he was entrenching behind his usual protective wall.

* * *

Unable to lie, he's always been unable to lie, except that day.

Enos remembered their eyes, a couple of cold blue eyes and another couple of deep dark eyes, cold eyes.

He lied to LAPD's detectives, so hampering police investigation. A crime.

He committed a crime 'cause he was scared, 'cause he didn't know anymore whom he could trust.

HE betrayed his badge and uniform.

"_Though you can't change the World, you can prevent the World changes you." _

He remembered uncle Jesse's words and he stopped the car, resting his forehead on the wheel, ashamed of his betrayal, a dark force pushing him down.

"_It's what she told. She's your fiancée, isn't she? Your friends and fiancée are really worried for you. You're lucky." _

The force pushing him down let him go.


	18. A small notebook

**A SMALL NOTEBOOK**

Uncle Jesse's eyes followed her niece as she stormed inside the living room, walking to the couch and sinking into it, her arms folded and a strange look on her face as she bit her lower lip. Uncle Jesse knew that look: Daisy was lost into a painful thought but at the same time she felt angry because of her impotence, the same look she had the day he told her about aunt Lavinia's illness.

The wide man had a deep sigh and sat on his armchair, "So, what? Did Enos start again to talk about resignation? Or… what else? Did he find out about your recent interest for The Los Angeles Time and he got angry?"

When he named "The Los Angeles Time" Daisy stiffened, and uncle Jesse thought he got it: Enos found out Daisy's plan and he was now disappointed, and it wasn't surprising, "Don't worry, Enos is going to understand you was just worried for him and…"

"He didn't find out how we knew it, but he knows we know, anyway, thanks Catherine Burns."

As Bo sat on the couch by Daisy's side, uncle Jesse opened his eyes wide, surprised by his words, "Catherine Burns? Who's Catherine Burns?"

"A journalist from the Los Angeles Time, coming here from L.A. in order to interview Enos."

Uncle Jesse turned to Luke's voice, looking at his nephew who rested against the fireplace, his arms folded.

"Please, do you want to explain me what's happening?" uncle Jesse's eyes moved from Luke to Bo and finally to Daisy, the only one still silent.

"Sorry uncle Jesse," Luke shook his head, "well, while we're goin' to the town we met this journalist and we gave her a lift. She told us she works for The Los Angeles Time and she was planning to interview Enos."

"I understand the idea of interview him: _Having one police officer testifying against others in support of a defendant is a rare phenomenon in the courtrooms of Los Angeles, a break with the L.A. Police Department's notorious code of silence, the so-called blue wall of silence. _It's more or less what we read in the newspaper, isn't it? It isn't surprising a journalist wants to interview the cop breaking the Blue Wall of Silence; I don't know why now and not when it happened, in April, but probably L.A.P.D. forbade Enos to talk with journalists, and, then…" a brief pause, "… then he got severely injured so he couldn't answer journalists' questions, but journalists are really stubborn, especially when they smell a possible scoop," he shook his head, caressing his white beard, "and I suppose Enos isn't glad to meet someone remembering him his time in L.A., especially remembering him THAT thing. So, Enos found out you know what happened in L.A. 'cause he met that journalist and he understood she told you everything. Well, at least Enos knows there's no need to hide things any more, a good thing for him, and for us, so we can stop pretending we don't know anything."

"Not so simple, uncle Jesse. There's something more. Unfortunately."

Uncle Jesse stared at Bo, "What else? Isn't it enough?"

By Bo's side, Daisy bit her lower lip even more, and uncle Jesse caught it.

Again, Luke acted as spokesman of Daisy and Bo, "That journalist told us something more about what happened, something unofficial. Just an idea of that journalist, but she seems pretty sure of her idea, and… we too, after looking at Enos' reaction to her words about some news on police investigation," Luke unfolded his arms and scratched his head in frustration, "it seems Enos was beaten not by protesters but by other cops, because of a sort of retaliation due to his deposition. I think Enos doesn't know that journalist told us this … little… unofficial addition, anyway, so he still thinks we believe protesters beat him up."

"WHAT? It is…" uncle Jesse didn't find the right words to express what's going on into his mind, the same rage, disbelief and sadness his nephews and niece faced just few hours ago, his shocked state broken by Daisy slamming her bedroom's door.

* * *

Wrapped in her bathrobe after a long hot bath, finally lying on the bed of her room in Hazzard's Hotel, Catherine read her notes on her small notebook, trying to recollect everything about that day.

She was pretty sure Enos Strate was victim of a terrific retaliation inside L.A.P.D.; she read it into his gestures and his unsaid words. How convince him to talk?

Soon after her arrival to the Hotel, excited by her brief (but meaningful) talk with that cop, and inebriated by the exciting smell of that scoop, she forgot her desire for a hot bath (desire following her since that bus stop) and she spent some time to talk with the receptionist, a young and talkative woman who seemed even too much happy to chat with a journalist from a big city, maybe driven by that sort of admiration mixed with sense of inferiority some people of small towns felt for people from big cities, or maybe Lucy May (it was the name of the receptionist) was simply an extrovert and happy woman who liked to talk to anybody. Beside, Catherine told Lucy May she was there to interview Enos Strate simply because he was injured during a police dangerous operation in L.A. and she, as a journalist of The Los Angeles Time, she'd have liked to interview Enos the same way, along her career, she interviewed many other cops who served the community, risking their life, but, before to interview him, she was going to know a bit more of him from his folks.

Catherine recollected Lucy May's words about "poor Enos, we all supposed something bad happened to him in L.A. 'cause, you see, Mrs. Burns, he's slimmer and he visited Doc Appleby several times, so, yeah, we all were wondering what happened, and I'm not surprised now to know he was injured. Enos is the only honest cop here, and we all trust him, if something happens here in Hazzard and if we need the Law, well, we ask for him, for sure not for Mr. Hogg or Sheriff Rosco P. Coltrane. OPS, sorry, delete my last line, please."

Catherine underlined that last line, especially that "only honest cop", underlining it many times, and noting Mr. Hogg and Sheriff Rosco P. Coltrane's names in order to ask more information about them. If Hazzard's Law had been so corrupted as Lucy May let her realize, Enos Strate's honesty would have stood out even more: the cop fighting corruption. The journalist smiled thinking of this definition, so journalistic.

Skimming through her notes, Catherine underlined words here and there, adding more notes.

Family: Enos Strate's father was a moonshiner! A cop, an honest cop, the cop fighting corruption: the son of a moonshiner. When and why did he cross the line dividing his family from the Law? His father died when he was a child and after his father's death he lived with his mother 'till he went to the Police Academy, and, after his coming back to Hazzard as Deputy, he lived in a Boarding House, his mother away from Hazzard, living sometime in Capital City (where she had some relatives), sometime everywhere else in U.S. (with her various flings) or sometime visiting his son at the Boarding House (a son she probably thought not needing her any more).

"Mrs. Strate is a weird woman, not bad but strange. She's always been weird, a woman from Capital City meeting and marrying in a couple of days a moonshiner and deciding to live in our small County. She loved for sure Thomas Strate, and she loves Enos, but… it seems she doesn't like very much to live in this small and dusty hole… her words… and it isn't surprising, since she was born and she spent her childhood in a big city. Enos from time to time visits her and his relatives, in Capitol City, and Mrs. Strate from time to time comes here and stays at the Boarding House with Enos (and sometime Mrs. Strate's sister too, Minnie) but… I wouldn't be surprised to know she didn't know anything about her son's injuries in L.A." Catherine underlined Lucy May's words about Enos Strate's family.

Love and friends: Bo and Luke Duke were on probation! Their uncle Jesse Duke (and his brothers) ran moonshine along with Thomas Strate, so, it meant that Daisy Duke, Enos Strate's fiancée, was the niece (and daughter) of moonshiners. How did Enos Strate can couple his duty with his strange family and friends?

"Dukes are Enos' best friends. They're sort of a putative family for him. He has a crush on Daisy Duke since the third grade and everybody knows it, whereas Daisy… well… she's famous for her various flings, though in the last couple of years she seems more quiet and, if I don't get wrong, she didn't date anybody else beside Enos. And, after their nearly wedding, people think they're finally engaged. Finally!" Nearly wedding: Catherine read again, sniggering, her notes (Lucy May's version) about that strange wedding, based on false charges, robbers, and… hives; for sure people of that small town talked a lot, and they were still talking, about what happened behind the scenes of that sudden and surprising wedding. Strange town.

Reading her notes Catherine smiled amused, anticipating the pleasure to interview various people in Hazzard County, developing those juicy anticipations and so developing Enos Strate's character. She felt as she was going to write a romance and not a simple article.

* * *

Entering his apartment at the Boarding House late in the evening (or, it was better to say, early in the night), Enos wondered if Catherine Burns was still in town or if, understanding he wasn't going to answer her questions, she decided to go back to Los Angeles, and he hoped for the second hypothesis.

11 P.M.

Glancing at the clock he put his hat off, he took off his belt, he untied his tie and he rolled his shirt's sleeves up to his elbows.

He had no time, nor willing, to have dinner, and now, opening the fridge, he stared at the emptiness inside it: lately he wasn't taking care of his apartment as he usually did, and Daisy noticed it too, to the point she tidied up; he remembered Daisy in that small room with a mix of embarrassment and funny.

Hot milk. It could work. The previous night it worked.

Pouring the milk in the little pot and putting it on the little stove he waited it boiled, observing the white liquid's surface rippling and inhaling its scent.

"_Sugar or honey in the milk?"_

He opened the cupboard, he took the honey's can and, glancing at the salt's can he smiled, telling himself to put the salt's can somewhere else but not so near to sugar: it'd have been wiser.

He poured the hot milk in a cup, he filled a spoon with honey and it mixed that dense and yellow liquid to the milk, stirring it until the milk took on a soft yellowish shade. In the little room there was only the sound of the spoon touching the cup as he stirred the milk: the deep silence of the night and his loneliness amplified that sound.

He usually liked those little moments of loneliness and relax at the Boarding House after a day spent doing his job: he liked having dinner in that silence, or listening to music from the radio, and he liked to read comics or some book before to go to sleep. Loneliness wasn't so bad for him, especially 'cause he spent the whole day patrolling Hazzard's streets, talking with folks and friends, so, in effect, he didn't feel lonely: being lonely and being alone were totally different things. He liked looking for moments of loneliness: he liked spend the evening at the Boarding House, just silence or music he liked surrounding him, and he liked to go fishing, just the sound of the water around him. He LIKED it, simple past, 'cause actually he felt empty, nothing pleasing him; he felt like something inside him was definitively dead (was it dead or was it simply in a sort of coma, waiting for waking up again?), and it was the thing that scared him the most.

He wasn't even able to hate who pushed him to that hell, 'cause they were colleagues, and so like brothers to him. He wondered if protesters had beat him he would've been able to hate them, or he was simply unable to hate the same way he was unable to lie (nearly unable to lie), he was able just to feel disappointed and sad.

He sat down at the table and he slowly sipped the hot and sweet milk.

It didn't work: probably Daisy, and not the hot milk, worked the previous night.

He put the empty cup into the sink and he walked to the bathroom. He had a hot shower, he wiped himself and, totally naked, he crawled under the blankets.

When, at 4 A.M., the dream of Daisy's hand on his forearm turned into a real and pulsing pain, he grabbed the Vicodin's bottle waiting for him on his night table, and he swallowed a couple of pills, just to be sure IT worked.


	19. Laughing and crying

**LAUGHING AND CRYING**

Someone called him.

"Enos, wake up!"

He moaned, he wanted just to sleep. Just sleep. Why didn't they let him sleep?

"Come on, boy, wake up!" a male voice and then a pinch in the muscle above his right collarbone. It hurt; he didn't know a pinch there could hurt so much.

He opened his eyes, blurred eyes and heavy eyelids.

A white haired man was looking at him through his big glasses: Doc Appleby.

"How many Vicodin's pills did you take?"

"Uh…", he closed again his eyes, unable to keep them open, "two, just two."

"Oh Doc Appleby," a female voice, her voice. Daisy's voice.

Enos huddled under the blankets, his head too, hiding completely to Daisy, his conscience slowing emerging from that deep and unnatural sleep: Daisy was looking at him as he was sleeping because of the sedatives he took, and he felt ashamed of his weakness. He felt ashamed of his nudity, too: did Daisy notice he was naked? He NEVER slept naked, so WHY exactly that morning Daisy entered his apartment?

His conscience had a further step in that foggy sleep: Doc Appleby was with Daisy, and it meant… What did it mean? How and why did they enter his room at the Boarding House?

His mind plunged again in the darkness.

* * *

Doc Appleby gently rested the Vicodin's bottle on the night table, "It's almost full, so I suppose he took just a couple of pills, as he told us. Enough to sleep so deeply, especially if he took it late in the night or really early in the morning, but for sure not enough to kill him. Don't worry and let him sleep, Daisy."

"But… if he took TWO pills it means he had a LOT of pain!"

The doctor had a deep sigh, "Yeah, you're right, but… it won't kill him. The pain's goin' to lessen", another sigh coupled with his shaking head, "the pain would lessen if he stopped to run here and there and had some rest as I keep on repeat to him," he walked to the door, "and next time, Daisy, instead of call me shouting that Enos is lying dead in his bed, have a try to wake him up. Or, at least, check his breath and pulse."

Daisy blushed remembering her being in hysterics.

But, how not being in hysterics?

At 8 A.M. the phone rang at the farm, and an angry (or a worried, it wasn't clear) Rosco asked if Enos was there: since he didn't see him at the Police Station, and since Enos didn't answer his call at the Boarding House, he was wondering if he spent the night at the farm and why he wasn't at work.

At 8,15 A.M. Daisy parked her jeep in front of the Boarding House whereas Bo and Luke were looking for Enos' patrol car in any ravine or pond. Fortunately Enos' patrol car was there, in front of the Boarding House, and it meant Enos was still in his apartment. Why was he still there? He usually woke up early in the morning, especially when he had to go to work.

At 8,25 A.M., after a frantic knocking at his door and after a scaring silence as answer to her knocking, she opened the door thanks to Mrs. Marple's key (as owner of the Boarding House the old woman had a copy of every room's key, for any eventuality).

At 8,30 A.M. Daisy called Doc Appleby, sobbing about Enos motionless in his bed, probably dead because of an overdose of Vicodin (she noticed the open bottle on the night table and she didn't realize it was nearly full, her mind driven to the most dramatic scenario) and Mrs. Marple was sobbing too, sitting on a chair.

At 8,40 A.M. a breathless Doc Appleby entered the room, he came closer Enos, he briefly looked at him as he grabbed his wrist, and he relaxed, "He's just sleeping. An heavy sleep." He took the Vicodin's bottle, observing it, "he probably took too much Vicodin, but it seems the bottle is still full," and then he managed to wake Enos up thanks an energetic pinch on his shoulder.

"I just want to sleep, please, let me sleep."

Enos' hoarse and moaning words as Doc Appleby tried to wake him up gave Daisy a sort of vertigo: she collapsed on the couch, uncertain if crying of joy, if slapping herself because of her being in hysterics in front of Mrs. Marple and Doc Appleby, or if slapping Enos because he was the reason of all that mess.

That mix of fear, relief, embarrassment and rage prevented her to do anything: she simply stayed there, sitting on the couch and looking at Doc Appleby leaving the room, Mrs. Marple with him after wiping her eyes with her apron.

She woke up from her emotional shock and confusion when Enos moaned again, rolling on his back and emerging from the blankets.

She walked to the phone and she called uncle Jesse to tell him Enos was "simply sleeping at the Boarding House 'cause he took too much Vicodin", and she heard uncle Jesse sighing before to tell her he was going to C.B. to Bo and Luke (and to Rosco too) about it, so stopping their useless research.

Sitting on a chair near Enos' bed, Daisy wondered what to do: leaving him alone or staying with him until he woke up? Fleeting doubt.

_He underwent more than six hours of surgery to treat internal injuries. He is expected to survive, the chief said. _

"_Daisy… it's not fair to check of signs of the surgical operation Doc talked about on Enos' body."_

Uncle Jesse's reproach just few days before didn't stop Daisy's "checking" as soon as she realized Enos wasn't wearing any t-shirt. She slowly uncovered his chest and then his belly, stopping the blankets' descending some inches under his belly button.

And she saw the surgical operation's signs: a long, central and vertical scar crossed his belly, starting under his sternum and stopping at his lower belly, with two small scars on both sides of the central one, at the same distance from it; another long scar crossed the right side of his chest, parallel to his ribs.

Daisy wasn't a doctor, so she didn't know what the real meaning of those surgical scars was, but the idea of "more than six hours of surgery to treat internal injuries" was now more clear and real, and so more scaring and ravaging.

She felt the air inside the room becoming heavier and heavier, and she started to sweat as her temperature was rising more and more. She stood up and she opened the window, fall's fresh air entering the room and remembering her where she was, washing away her personal vision of that day in L.A., a vision changing every time she thought about it, adding or removing some details; a vision anyway becoming stronger and more painful despite its continuous changing: adding or removing some details didn't change the sense of that terrific vision, its consequences now real and visible in those scars.

She had a deep breath, inhaling that fall's air, Hazzard's air, and she closed the window, sitting down near his bed, her hands slowly reaching the blankets in order to cover him: she saw what she wanted to see, and she was realizing it added just more questions, and pain, instead of more answers.

"Daisy… what… are… you… doing?"

Her hands still on the blankets (blankets still few inches under his belly button), she turned to him and she realized he was blushing. And looking down at his belly she realized why he was blushing: it was now clear to Daisy he was totally naked, no sign of pants. The blankets covered him up to his lower belly, but if Daisy had lowered those blankets of some more inches...

Daisy felt again her temperature rising and her cheeks burning, now for a totally different reason: Enos was looking at her while she had her hands still on his blankets, and his blankets were just few inches above…

"I didn't see you naked, Enos. Honestly, I didn't want to see you naked, I was just… just…"

He took the blankets from her hands, "Possum on a gum bush, Dais. I can't even sleep in my bed without…," his head under the blankets now completely covering him he kept on talking, his squeaking voice muffled, "without… having someone sneaking into my room and… and… "

"Come on, put your underpants on," she opened his drawer, she grabbed a pair of underwear and she handed it out to him as his hand emerged from the blankets and reached hers.

Her arms folded in an apparent self-confidence, she looked at his arm hiding again under the blankets, his underpants in his hand, and then she observed that embarrassed and goofy bundle moving until he finally got up, his underpants on, heading to the bathroom, "When did you start to sleep totally naked, Enos Strate?"

She waited until he came out the bathroom, his hair damp and his face shaved, "I… usually don't sleep… naked, "he was still blushing, "it's that… last night I…," he turned to her, "Daisy, I'm sorry but… I don't want to talk about it, OK?" he shook his head, "I can't believe we're talking about it."

"We're talking about it simply 'cause you didn't go to the Police Station, this morning, and I had to ask Mrs. Marple to open your door, and then I had to call Doc Appleby 'cause I thought you were… dead!"

"Dead? Why did you think I was dead?" he looked at her in confusion as he opened the wardrobe to dress his uniform.

"I thought you killed yourself with… Vicodin"

"WHAT?" he forgot about his uniform, "Daisy, how could you think something like that? I took Vicodin just 'cause…," he looked away, "you know. Now you know everything about the beating, I suppose."

Her eyes lingered on his scars, "Yeah, it's why I… it's why I uncovered you… just to know about… your staying in Hospital. I'm sorry."

He realized she was looking at his scars and he was going to say something when a gentle knock at the door broke their awkward silence: probably Mrs. Marple was checking everything was OK.

"The door is open, Mrs," Daisy's eyes opened wide when the door opened, "Burns?"

"Good morning. I hope everything's OK. Sheriff Coltrane told me about … your absence, and the reason of your absence, deputy Strate, so…" Mrs. Burns entered the room and she looked at Enos and Daisy with an embarrassed smile, "Uh, sorry, I think I interrupted a romantic moment."

"Mrs. Burns, please, I've already told you I don't want to be interviewed, and I'm now asking you to leave Hazzard and not to bother sheriff Rosco… or other folks. Please!"

"We're going to talk about it later, deputy Strate… when you'll wear something more than … those pink boxers," a brief nod as goodbye and Catherine Burns left the room so silently as she came in, the silence after her leaving replaced by Daisy's laugh.

"Oh thank you Daisy. Anyway, my boxers are… pink just 'cause… I washed them with my red shirt, so now I have a pair of soft pink underwear and a soft red shirt. You should've handed out another pair… Hey, stop laughing, it's already enough embarrassing."

Daisy kept on laughing, unable to stop. She laughed and she cried, and she didn't know if she was crying because she was laughing too much, or if it was a strange eruption of her confused emotions: she was still shocked because of her believing Enos was dead, and after that fear the shock in seeing his scars (remembering her any vision of that day, stronger and vivid images than ever), and finally that embarrassing and silly situation breaking down her bad emotions.

She laughed and she cried several minutes before to calm down, while Enos stared at her in confusion.

"Daisy… are you… OK?"

"Oh Enos. You're really something else. You're able to make me laugh in the most unimaginable situations," she wiped her tears and her laughing turned into a simple crying.

"Daisy, are you… crying… or laughing?"

"I think both of them, sugar. I'm sad and shocked about what happened to you, but at the same time I'm relieved you're here with me, safe and sound, and clumsy like usual. And now, please, dress you up and…," she wiped again her tears, painful tears, now, "please, I don't want to see those scars. It hurts me. Sorry, I know you've been hurt more than me, but…," her voice cracked and she burst out crying, no more sign of laughing in her crying.

Through her tears she looked at him dressing up: shirt, pants, socks and shoes.

"I'm OK, Dais, I'm OK. Forget about L.A. I'm trying my best to forget about it, and I need you to help me. Did you remember what you told me, yesterday evening? You told me you were goin' to give me new memories, good memories, in order to wash away L.A.' memories," he came closer her and he slowly hugged her, "So, please, stop crying. OK?"

She nodded against his shoulder, finding back her self-control and realizing the deep meaning in Enos' words: she had to be strong, for him.

"Yeah. And now that journalist thinks we were having a romantic moment. You and your… pink boxers," she sniggered.

"Well, in effect… she was true. Wasn't she true?"

"Oh Enos," she parted from him and she gave him a soft punch on his arm, she laughed and then she kissed him, a deep and emotional kiss as the previous night.

* * *

_LOS ANGELES POLICE DEPARTMENT_

His pen and notebook in his hand, the journalist stared at the two detectives, the blonde one and the dark haired one: deep blue cold eyes and deep dark cold eyes.

"Do you think the culprit is moving to the East Coast, after his activity here in L.A.? Is he the same man?"

The dark haired man observed his hands as he was looking at something totally new, for him, as those hands weren't his ones, "Yeah, we suppose he's moving to the East Coast. We've had signs of his activity in Arizona, Oklahoma and now Alabama."

"And are you going to catch him?" the journalist had a quiver: he had to warn Catherine. If that man were moving to the East Coast, maybe he'd have reached Georgia, too. Catherine had to stop to waste her time with that cop, Enos Strate (old news), and focus on what's happening (actual news).

"We're going to help local police to catch him. Yeah."

The journalist nodded. He had definitively to warn Catherine: interesting things could happen in Georgia, and she had the opportunity to be in frontline.


	20. A thunder in the distance

**A THUNDER IN THE DISTANCE**

Coming out the Boarding House with Enos, the feeling of his lips still on hers, Daisy observed him walking to the Police Station, sighing, and, in order to wash away her strong and opposite emotions (sadness and joy, worrisome and relief, anguish and happiness) she headed to the drug store, remembering that, after all, she was planning to go to the town for shopping before Rosco called the farm and before she rushed to the town with a totally different thought than shopping in her mind.

She wanted to forget about Catherine Burns and about L.A., but she couldn't help but sniggering as she thought of her last meeting with the journalist.

"_We're going to talk about it later, deputy Strate… when you'll wear something more than … those pink boxer."_

Daisy's sniggering turned into a brief genuine and healthy laugh, so that Mrs. O'Connor, walking on the opposite side of the street, looked at Daisy in confusion, and Daisy greeted Mrs. O'Connor with a nod and a smile, chocking her laugh and feeling as a exuberant tomboy laughing in the most unsuitable moments (and, in effect, when she was a child, she was a exuberant and wild tomboy).

That laugh and the memories of her childhood refreshed Daisy; her hand on the door's handle to enter the drug store, she was still smiling and she barely noticed someone knocking at the window of the adjacent "Ice Cream Parlor": inside the small café Mrs. Burns was knocking at the window, beckoning Daisy to come in and join her.

It seemed shopping was going to be really difficult, that morning. She looked up at the terse sky, some dark clouds in the distance, and she entered the "Ice Cream Parlor".

* * *

Walking from the Police Station to the Hazzard's Bank, reproaching himself for his awkward and unsuccessful attempts of losing his conscience in order to totally forget of L.A., just for some hours (both beer and now Vicodin having a terrific and embarrassing effect on him), Enos stopped, hearing someone knocking at the "Whogg Radio" window: he turned to his friend Elton, his chubby face looking at him behind the window of the Radio, beckoning Enos to come in and join him.

Enos smiled: a talk with a good and old friend was what he needed.

* * *

Daisy sat on a chair in front of Mrs. Burns, on the table between them a cup of tea and a piece of apple-pie.

"May I offer you a cup of tea and a piece of cake, Daisy? It's my breakfast, and I'd be glad if you're going to keep me company."

Daisy's stomach grumbled, awaken by the scent of coffee and cakes, recalling her she left the farm without having breakfast, in that morning: the "Ice Cream Parlor" was famous for its ice- cream (the best ice-cream in Hazzard) but also for its cakes, especially along fall and winter, when people preferred a hot tea and a piece cake to an ice-cream.

"A hot tea and a piece of apple-pie, for me, please, Beth," Daisy smiled at the young owner, so accepting Mrs. Burns' invitation.

Waiting for her cup of tea and piece of cake, she stared at Mrs. Burns sipping her tea: the woman seemed to like it very much.

"This tea and this cake are awesome. So… sweet. In L.A. there's nothing like that"

"The Ice Cream Parlor is famous not only for its ice-cream but for its cakes too," Daisy nodded, smiling at the woman's compliment, South's pride, _"especially 'cause Beth doesn't use salt instead of sugar in her apple-pie," _then chocking a laugh because of her sudden and silly thought: she wondered if having that sort of silly excitement after a huge shock was normal.

"Uh, sorry for my… entering your fiancé's room in a so inappropriate moment, but… since you told me the door was open… well, I came in. I heard you laughing as I left," Mrs. Burns smiled, "so I'm glad you and your fiancé took it as a funny accident."

Daisy was surprised by the journalist's words, but probably Catherine Burns thought Daisy was still sniggering about that morning, and, in effect, she was, just few minutes before.

But, with her misunderstanding the reason of Daisy's sniggering, Catherine Burns was giving Daisy the opportunity to talk about the journalist's _"we're going to talk about it later, deputy Strate"_: later? talking? Enos didn't want to talk to that woman, wearing or not wearing something more than _"those pink boxer."_

Pushing away the funny image of Catherine Burns entering Enos' room and looking at him and at his pink boxer, Daisy had a deep breath: it was time of a serious talk with that woman.

* * *

"Did a journalist ask you about me? This morning?" Enos sat down, putting his hat off and scratching his nape, "what did she tell you?"

Elton shrugged, "She's goin' to write an article about you, in the Los Angeles Time, WOW! You're goin' to be famous, Enos! She talked about you…," Elton's smile faded, "… bein' severely injured in L.A., and she said she's already written articles about other cops injured in the line of duty."

Enos had a soft shrug and shook his head, "I hope she didn't bother you with her questions," he looked down at the hat in his hands, "and with what she told you about… how I was injured. I… I don't like she talked to people about it, I don't want people look at me with pity," his hat in his hands, he started fidgeting as usual.

Elton looked carefully at his old friend, a serious look on his face, "She didn't tell me anything about how you was injured. She just asked me what you like to do in your free time, what kind of man you are, if I'm your friend, and so on. Beside, Enos, everybody's here in Hazzard understood you had a hard time in L.A., and everybody was wondering what happened. Now people will know you've been injured in the line of duty, and there's nothing to be ashamed of, but to be proud of, and everybody here in Hazzard is already proud of you simply because you are you, no matter what happened in L.A., and people look at you with affection and worrisome, NOT pity. You're a great example of self-made man," he smiled again and he patted gently on Enos' shoulder, "beside, that journalist won't find anybody saying a single negative word about you… and, in effect, she doesn't seem looking for something bad about you. So, don't worry. She won't find anything but good things about your reputation… or weird things, as your jumping your car while chasing the general Lee and your peculiar way to wash your patrol car."

Enos laughed, nodding, "You're right, thanks, Elton."

* * *

Her cup of tea and her piece of cake finally in front of her, Daisy looked at the golden liquid, inhaling its scent and trying to find the best words to say to that journalist.

"Please, Mrs. Burns. Leave Hazzard and don't bother Enos any more. He's doing his best to forget what he faced in L.A., and you're torturing him, recalling him everything. I know it's your job, and I respect your job, but you'd understand your job can hurt people, sometimes." Direct and honest, but polite, Dukes' style, her style when she wanted to protect someone.

Catherine sipped her tea, "Call me Catherine, please," she smiled, "I'm a journalist, and being a journalist means, sometimes, being nosy. We're darn snoops, as people tell us. And when a snoop smells a scoop... you know what I'm talking about."

"_Having one police officer testifying against others in support of a defendant is a rare phenomenon in the courtrooms of Los Angeles, a break with the L.A. Police Department's notorious code of silence, the so-called blue wall of silence. It's more or less what we read in the newspaper, isn't it? It isn't surprising a journalist wants to interview the cop breaking the Blue Wall of Silence." _Yeah, Daisy knew what Catherine Burns was talking about, and uncle Jesse already verbalized that concept.

"I understand your point," a doubtful pause, "Catherine," using her name gave their conversation a more delicate touch, a talk from woman to woman, "BUT, try to understand MY point of view. I'm worried for Enos, OK? Since his coming back from L.A., what happened to him is haunting him. I know he's trying, desperately, to forget and to go on with his life as Hazzard's deputy, forgetting everything happened in L.A. Then, you arrive to the town, and, BAM, like a bomb, you recall him everything."

"I think that if he opened up, saying EVERYTHING happened to him, he'd feel better. Don't you think?"

"Oh please, Catherine, don't play the one who wants to help Enos. Yeah, he'd feel better if he opened up, but you just want a scoop. You don't care of Enos, at all. He's just… a scoop, for you: the cop who dared to break the Blue Wall of Silence. Am I wrong?"

After another long sip of her tea, Catherine gently rested the cup on the table, "You're right. As I said, I'm a darn snoop. BUT, you know, if I'm here, months after that trial, it isn't only for the scoop. I'd lie if I say I don't want that scoop, but… you see, officer Strate… Enos… really impressed me, that day. I've ADMIRED him, so, I don't see him just as a scoop, I'm really interested in him beside the scoop."

"Were you there, that day?" Daisy held her breath: obviously, since she wrote those articles, that woman was there, at the Courthouse, and she was probably at the Hospital, checking information about Enos' condition, and it scared and intrigued Daisy at the same time, in her mind and heart that continuous fight between know (facing dramatic details) and not to know (imaging dramatic details).

"Yeah, I was there, and his strength impressed me. He was pale and I bet he'd have like to run away, but he did what he thought was right. He did his duty despite he was… shattered, and sad. Shattered and sad not because he feared retaliation, but because of his colleagues' actions."

Daisy nodded, "Yeah, he's…Enos. He always does what he thinks is right, and he values very much his oath. His job, and what it means to him, is the most important thing," her eyes focused on her cup of tea in order to hold back her tears and her stomach's squirming. She held her breath before to ask the most scaring question, "And… were you at the Hospital, too, during his staying there?" waiting for Catherine's obvious answer.

"Uh, yeah. I was there, day after day, to know about his condition. But they didn't let me see him; I just talked with doctors and with LAPD spokesman. I managed to see him the day he was beaten, anyway, just few minutes, as he was still in E.R. before the operation."

It wasn't exactly the answer Daisy was waiting for, and her hands trembled.

"THAT day, too? Did you see him?"

* * *

"And what about your partner, there. I remember his name was… something starting with T," Elton scratched his haid, "I don't remember his name."

Enos' smile grew wide, "Turk! Turk Adams, yeah! But he wasn't my partner, this time. I worked in a different division of LAPD, so I didn't work with Turk and Chief Broggi," his smile turned sad, "unfortunately."

"But… did you meet them, from time to time?"

"From time to time, yeah. And they came to the Hospital to visit me, several times, when I was there," Enos looked away from Elton, his eyes lost outside the window as he thought of his days as he stayed in the Hospital, no many cops visiting him beside Turk and Chief Broggi, and those cold detectives.

Looking at Enos' zoning out, Elton remained silent, uncomfortable about what to say.

* * *

Catherine's eyes stared at Daisy's trembling hands, "I'm sorry. I don't want to shock you with… ravaging details. He was in pretty bad condition, and he was unconscious, anyway. Since then I started to realize the truth behind his beating. What an irony of fate, the cop breaking the Blue Wall of Silence was the cop beaten hard. And, beside, I saw the marks on his body; trust me, I can distinguish marks of baseball bats from marks of cops' batons."

Daisy felt the air inside the Ice Cream Parlor becoming hot, the same feeling she had in Enos' room as she stared at his scars. She was feeling sick. She closed her eyes and she had a deep breath, remembering herself Enos was safe and sound and L.A. was distant and harmless, now.

"_You know… the day I was injured… it rained, and it's why today…, It's strange_ _but… that day I remember perfectly the rain's sound on the ambulance's roof…_ _and then on the ER's windows."_

Enos told her he remembered the rain of that day, whereas Catherine said he was unconscious, and it was written in the Los Angeles Time too (_Officers arriving on the scene found him unconscious)_, the journal's words impressed in her mind: probably Enos lied between a state of unconsciousness and a state of half-consciousness, and, from the bottom of her heart, Daisy hoped the state of half-consciousness lasted as little as possible.

Her eyes still closed she kept on repeating in her mind Enos was now safe and sound, in Hazzard, nobody hurting him, nobody wanting to hurt him, and she relaxed a bit. When she opened her eyes, Catherine was staring at her, confused and worried.

"Are you OK, Daisy? You're pale."

"I'm OK. I don't want to recall that day, and… today I've seen Enos' scars, for the first time, and… I'm still a bit shocked, sorry," she sipped her tea, surprised of her confession: probably she was more shocked than she thought of, so feeling the need to talk about it to anybody.

"For the FIRST time? He's your fiancé, isn't he? Didn't you seen him naked since his coming back from L.A.?" an amused and surprised smile appeared on Catherine's face.

"I've NEVER seen him naked," Daisy blushed furiously, and the smile on Catherine's face became wider.

"Uh, so… it's true!" the journalist had a brief and embarrassed laugh, taking her time to answer to Daisy's questioning look, "well… people say that… Enos Strate is the oldest virgin in Hazzard. You know, I asked here and there some information about him… and, for sure, he's really interesting."

Daisy looked at the journalist with her mouth wide open, remembering herself she was talking to a journalist, not to a friend, and that "darn snoop" would've used for her scoop whatever she was going to say about Enos: she'd have been more careful.

The sound of rain's drops against the window informed Daisy that the sunny day just turned into a rainy day.

"Sorry Mrs. Burns, but I have to go, now."

* * *

Enos' empty eyes slowly focused on a woman running in front of the "Whogg Radio" window.

Daisy: where was she running, and why?

Coming out the Radio Enos called her, and she stopped her running, turning to him.

"Everything's OK, Daisy?"

"Hi, sugar, I was going to the Police Station."

"Why?" he came closer her, serious and a bit scared, "Is something's wrong? What's happened? Why are you running?"

"It's raining, and…," Daisy folded her arms, shrugging, her way to protect herself from the cold rain and to find the best way to say what she wanted to say: _"… and I was worried for you because of the sound of the rain against the windows_" sounded pathetic and a bit ridiculous.

"And… do you want to denounce the sky 'cause it's raining?" he smiled, washing away her embarrass, but in his smile Daisy understood he knew the reason of her running to him.

"Come on, sugar, we can't stay here under the rain," she laughed, she grabbed his hand and they ran, hand in hand, to the Police Station as a thunder exploded in the distance.

* * *

When the first bomb exploded in Georgia like a terrific thunder, Marion County's Sheriff called LAPD for help.

Late in that morning, detective Rick Molise (dark and cold eyes) and detective James Colt (blue cold eyes) entered L.A. airport.

Destination: Atlanta.

* * *

**This LONG chapter (hope not boring) needs some notes:**

**1) it was time to explain Turk's and Chief Broggi's position about the Blue Wall of Silence. I was planning to do it, at some point, and I did it in this chapter :-))**

**2) Elton and "Enos' last chance" episode. I LOVE that episode for several reasons: I think it's the episode showing Enos' sense of duty in the best way (MY idea of Enos is in THAT episode) and I find interesting Elton's interviewing Enos and presenting him as "a self-made man, an example of success in Hazzard", and even more interesting and meaningful are Enos' words in that interview (deep and mature); moreover, I love how the whole town shows its respect for Enos and its rallying (being Dukes in frontline) in order to help him. ****I'm trying to use that "spirit" in this story, despite the rough and thorny topic: it's what I wrote in the summary and in my profile page, after all, so I won't bother you anymore about the sense of the story and my idea of Hazzard.**


	21. A dispatch

**A DISPATCH**

"Wait," Enos entered the locker room at the Police Station, coming out with a towel in his hands, "You're soaked."

"Thanks, sugar," Daisy took the towel from his hands and she wiped her hair.

Rosco looked at them, confused: there were no many times the Dukes entered the Police Station, and usually it was for a bail, for having a quarrel with Boss about his schemes, for nosing around, and… for jailbreaks. But since Enos' coming back from L.A. Daisy Duke came to the Police Station just to see Enos.

"Dipstick! Did you go to the Bank?"

Enos started as a shy smile appeared on his face, "Uh, sorry Sheriff. I forgot about it."

Rosco shook his head, "Go to the Bank, or Boss will fire you, and then, go patrolling."

"Yes sir," Enos turned to Daisy, "I have to go, now. Bye," and he nervously walked out the Police Station.

"Bye bye sugar," Daisy looked at him with a dreamy and sweet smile then she turned to Rosco, "Bye Rosco," leaving the Police Station.

"Bye bye sugar," Rosco hit off Daisy, he shrugged and he looked at Flash, taking her in his arms, "those lovebirds. And Enos doesn't understand anything when that Daisy's 'roud. That dipstick!"

Few after Enos' and Daisy's leaving, a woman entered the Police Station, and Rosco recognized she was the journalist he met that early morning.

"I think we should talk, Sheriff Coltrane, and I'd like to talk to Commissioner J.D. Hogg, too."

* * *

"What 'bout Enos?"

Resting the shopping bags on the kitchen table, some hours after she left the farm, Daisy turned to uncle Jesse answering his question, "He took TWO Vicodin's pills, and he was sleeping hard," she shook her head and she had a big sigh, "he scared me so much," she collapsed on a chair, "I really thought he was dead 'cause I wasn't able to wake him up, so I called Doc Appleby."

"And now, where's Enos?"

"He's patrolling. When he left the Police Station he seemed fine, or I hope so," Daisy stood up and she started to place part of the shopping in the fridge.

"Was he really sleeping so hard?" Bo entered the kitchen, he took the milk's bottle from the fridge, opening it and pouring the milk in a glass, then he drank it, "it's warm," his statement stressed by a disgusted look on his face.

Daisy took the bottle from Bo's hands, "It's still warm 'cause I've just placed it in the fridge," she opened the fridge and she put the bottle at its place, taking another bottle and giving it to Bo, "Drink buttermilk, it's cold. And yeah, he was still sleeping."

"I prefer milk to buttermilk. Anyway, thanks," Bo smiled and poured the buttermilk in the glass.

"And we looked for him in any pond and ravine, thinking he had an accident while patrolling," Luke reached his family in the kitchen, opening the fridge and taking the milk's bottle.

"It's still warm," Bo pointed at the glass in his hand, "drink buttermilk."

"Help me with the shopping, please," Daisy smiled at her cousins, "and thanks for this morning. I really appreciated you went out looking for Enos."

"Enos is our friend, and for sure we couldn't stay here wondering what happened to him and looking at the ceiling, just waiting for news," Bo patted gently on Daisy's shoulder, "and, beside his long sleep, was he fine?"

Daisy wondered if telling them about the scars she saw on Enos' body: they already knew about his staying in Hospital and about the operation, and those scars wouldn't have added anything to their knowing, but she felt the need to share her shock with her family.

"You know… while he was sleeping I looked at him and… I saw…"

A knock at the kitchen's door stopped Daisy's words, and Boss entered the room followed by Rosco.

"We should talk, Jesse."

There were no many times Boss entered the farm, and his visiting Jesse Duke meant just one thing: troubles on the horizon.

And Jesse Duke knew it, "What do you want, J.D.?" he looked at his old friend and foe and he got ready for the fight.

Boss' chubby fingers took his cigar out of his mouth, "It seems a journalist of The Los Angeles Time is here to interview Enos, but that dipstick doesn't want to talk to her. Now, she offered a lot of money to the Hazzard Police Department for that interview," his cigar again between his tightened lips as an act of defiance, his chin and cigar up, he looked at Jesse, "80% and 20%"

As the Dukes' patriarch realized Boss' offer, his eyes opened wide before his voice expressed that same incredulity and disgust just showed through his eyes, "J.D.! Are you asking me to convince Enos to talk to that journalist? For money?"

Exasperated, Boss waved his cigar under Jesse' nose, "I tried to convince Enos, but he's more stubborn than a mule, though I threatened him to fire him," Boss looked angrily at Daisy, Bo and Luke who were shaking their head, sharing their uncle's disgust, "and I know you're the only one who can convince that dipstick. Your word is law, for him."

Jesse Duke shook his head as his nephews and niece, "You're kidding, aren't you?"

The cigar still in his hand, his chin up, Boss raised, "70% and 30%"

"J.D. I can't believe you're…"

"I'm going to cut the mortgage on your farm, otherwise, if you refuse to help me, I'm going to increase it."

"J.D. I'm goin' to kick you outside…"

Again, Boss stopped Jesse's words, "I don't see any problem in it. The Hazzard Police Department is going to gain a lot of money," a smile appeared on Boss' face as his voice turned from bossy to gloat and amused, "in a honest way! And you're goin' to have your mortgage cut. I'm just asking you to convince Enos to do the right thing, the right thing for everybody."

"And what 'bout Enos? Don't you think he doesn't want to talk to that journalist 'cause it'd be painful to him? Should I convince him to do something that could hurt him? For my mortgage?"

Obsolete question: Daisy, Bo and Luke felt their uncle's rage in that question, getting ready to the upcoming storm.

But Boss didn't feel it coming, his greed preventing him to realize what's going on in Jesse Duke's mind, "Well, Enos is goin' to heal, a quick healing with some money in his pocket. An interview can't kill him," he kept on talking with his gloat voice, "And, whatever happened to him, that journalist said an interview could be a sort of cure, for him. I'm worried for him the same way than you, you know."

Stomach in chest out, his chin up, Jesse Duke walked in front of Boss, standing in all his height and overlooking the shorter and rounded Boss, "J.D. If you have the notion to ask me to do something that could hurt Enos just for my convenience, just forget about it!" his right forefinger pointing at Boss' face, "Dukes don't sell their friends for money, for mortgage or…. whatever you want. Dukes don't sell their friends! And if you want to increase the mortgage, well, we're goin' to find another way to save our farm, and, for sure, this way isn't selling Enos to your greed! Dukes do the right thing, and for the right reason! And don't try to convince me the best thing for Enos is talking with that journalist if he doesn't want to."

The storm: Daisy, Bo and Luke folded their arms, nodding, in their gestures their agreement to their uncle's words. Dukes' law: they don't sell their friends, no matter what.

"Jesse Duke, you are the most stubborn man I've ever met" Boss pointed his finger, and cigar, against his friend and foe, then he turned to the door, "Rosco, come on. It's pointless to stay here."

As Boss and Rosco left the farm, Daisy came closer her uncle, hugging him, "Well told, uncle Jesse."

It wasn't the first time her uncle took Enos' defense that way: Daisy remembered pretty well uncle Jesse standing between Boss and Enos when Boss fired Enos because of Scanlon's escape, and she remembered uncle Jesse's words, voicing all folks' voices in Hazzard, when Boss "promoted" Enos in order to give his job to a crooked new deputy, Billy Joe Coogan. She sighed recalling Scanlon: it seemed L.A. brought just troubles to Enos and Hazzard.

His arms still folded, Luke shook his head in disbelief, "I can't believe Boss asked US to help him for money!"

"I can't believe Boss asked US to betray Enos for money," Bo completed Luke's statement, sharing the same disgust and disbelief.

"And I can't believe Boss threatened Enos to fire him," Daisy pointed out another important point, "and I bet Boss is goin' to threaten Enos using our mortgage."

"And, if Enos can accept to lose his job to follow his idea, he wouldn't be so sure to deny that interview if the price to pay was our mortgage. He thinks of other people before than himself."

Uncle Jesse was right, and everybody pondered on those words.

"We aren't goin' to let Enos sacrifice himself for us. He's already suffered too much," Bo nodded, "We're able to take care of us, and of our mortgage. If he doesn't want to talk to that journalist, he can't be obliged to do it. We won't let Boss use our mortgage against him, and we won't let Boss fire him."

Luke, Daisy and uncle Jesse nodded after Bo's words, chorusing a sure and prideful "Oh yeah!"

* * *

When Enos parked his patrol car in front of the Hazzard Police Department the sun was setting.

Walking to the building he thought of Boss' words, shaking his head: he didn't want to talk with that journalist, he didn't want to be used for an attack against LAPD, and he wouldn't have given any interview, though it would have cost him his job.

As soon as he entered the room, Rosco handed him out a paper, "Look at this," and Enos noticed a serious look on his face.

"What?" Taking the paper from Rosco's hand, Enos at the same time read and listened to the Sheriff, Rosco's voice echoing what Enos was reading.

"A dispatch. From the Marion County Sheriff. A bomb exploded in his County, and it seems the bomber is from L.A., same hand. Do you remember a case about a bomber, in L.A.?"

Enos gave the dispatch back to Rosco as his mouth was becoming dry, a pesky presentiment mixed with a pesky memory facing to his mind, "Yeah… but not so much. I was… in Hospital when that bomber started his action. I know it by newspapers, nothing more."

"Marion County Sheriff sent this dispatch to any Sheriff, in Georgia, just in case…," a silence full of meaning and dense like a dark cloud remained suspended in the room before Rosco kept on talking, "… anyway, LAPD's detectives are helping to stop the bomber."

"LAPD's detectives? Helping? Does it mean they're here, in Georgia?" Enos' voice softened, becoming more a whisper to himself than a real question to Rosco.

"They're out jurisdiction, it's true, but that bomber is from L.A., they're catching him, and they're goin' to help Georgia's Sheriffs."

"Uh, yeah, I understand," Enos tried to smile, "We have just to hope this bomber isn't goin' to come to Hazzard." The idea of collaborating with LAPD's detectives was strange, to him: he didn't want those detectives recalled him his time in L.A., but at the same time he wanted to dispel those memories thanks to new good memories about LAPD's cops.

Detectives. His mind went back to the two who questioned him about the beating, when he was in Hospital. He remembered their eyes, cold eyes, but he barely remembered their names: Malice? Malone? Something starting with M for the one with dark eyes. And the ones with blue eyes… what's his name? Something about guns, his name recalled him guns, but he was confused about the meaning of that recall.

Thousands of icy ants walked from the bottom of his spine up to his nape, and his hair stood up in fear.

"May I read again that dispatch, Sheriff?" He reached out his arm to take that paper from Rosco's hand, two names written at the end of that dispatch hitched on in his subconscious along his previous quick read, and now they were worming in order to have his attention, facing from his subconscious to his full conscience.

At the end of the dispatch the names of the two detectives to call… _"just in case…"_

Rick MOLISE (not Malice or Malone): the one with dark eyes.

James COLT (Colt… a gun… it was the referring to guns he was trying to recall): the one with blue eyes.

An abyss of terrific possibilities opened up under Enos' feet.


	22. Smell of burning tires

**SMELL OF BURNING TIRES **

Enos rolled on his right side.

One week passed since that dispatch: no sign of the bomber after the explosion in Marion County, and Enos hoped that man was moving away from Georgia, and those detectives with him.

He rolled on his left side.

Rick Molise and James Colt: did they suspect the truth behind his beating? What would've happened if he had told them the truth? Would they've done their duty, looking for the culprits inside LAPD, or would they've protected those culprits complying with the Blue Wall of Silence? What's behind those cold eyes? What were they thinking about him when they asked him about the beating? Did they think of him as a rat deserving that beating, no matter who's responsible? Or did they respect him as a colleague injured in the line of duty?

He rolled on his back, staring at the ceiling of his room at the Boarding House.

Catherine Burns: she was spending her days in Hazzard talking to people in order to know everything about him. And Boss would've fired him if, the next day (Boss' ultimatum), he hadn't talked to that woman, giving her the interview she was waiting for.

He tried to empty his mind looking at the red shade on the ceiling as the sun was setting.

He felt surrounded, with no chance to run away whatever he would've chosen and whatever would've happened: if that bomber had come to Hazzard, and those detectives with him, would he have found the strength to talk to them about his beating, telling them what he hid that day in L.A.? And how would they have reacted? Would he have faced, again, the Blue Wall of Silence, being definitively crashed, or would he have found some allies and friends inside LAPD? The silence after that first bomb in Georgia was killing him, torn between the desire to know about another bomb far away and the desire to meet those detectives, solving his doubts, some way or another.

He sat up, unable to remain on his bed, a terrific anxiety catching him.

And what if Boss would've fired him? He wasn't going to talk with that journalist, no matter what: it'd have been painful. And it'd have been unfair to LAPD, a betrayal to his badge, and he couldn't do something like that, no matter if LAPD betrayed him in the worst way.

Next day: it could be his last day as Hazzard Deputy. He tried to take comfort thinking that, just few days before, he was talking about resignation. But, now, how to help his folks and friends in case... just in case...

A rush of nausea overwhelmed him.

All those thoughts and different emotions were killing him, he couldn't survive to that night.

Unless…

* * *

"Hi Enos! How are you?" Bo glanced at his family, his surprise to hear Enos' voice at the other side of the receiver turning into worrisome, "are you OK? You sound… strange, buddy."

Bo's worried look was a powerful recall to his family, and Luke, Daisy and uncle Jesse approached him, forming a circle around him.

"_Did Boss fire him?"_ Daisy whispered the obvious question to Bo. They knew about Boss' threat, and they were spending their time to check Catherine Burns' and Enos' moves, trying to understand if Enos was going to talk to that reporter or not, waiting for putting into use their plan in case Boss would've fired Enos or Enos would've decided to surrender to Boss' threats: two different plans, well built and pondered, to face both scenarios.

Bo answered Daisy's question with a brief shrug and shaking his head, "He wants to talk to you."

The receiver passed from Bo's to Daisy's hand, and her cousins and uncle had to wait silently to know what was going on, their questioning eyes on Daisy, the receiver against her ear and her hand's knuckles turning pale as she pressed the receiver.

"Ok! Ok! Enos, I'm comin', don't worry sugar."

"What's goin' on?", "Did Boss fire him?", "Did he decide to talk with that journalist?"

Voices and questions of her cousins and uncle confusedly reached Daisy's ear and mind as she walked to the door and then to her jeep, "I don't know. He asked me to reach him at the Boarding House 'cause he… he doesn't want to stay alone. His thoughts are driving him crazy, but he didn't tell me about these thoughts."

"We come with you, Daisy," Bo walked to the General Lee, "Come on, Luke."

"Bo, stop," uncle Jesse's soft voice surprised his youngest nephew, "Enos asked for Daisy and just for Daisy; if he had wanted to talk to us, he'd have come here," then he turned to her niece, "Daisy, try to understand what's goin' on, and, if you need us, call us and we'll reach you at the Boarding House. OK?"

Daisy nodded, "Ok. Thanks, uncle Jesse," she smiled and she drove away leaving a cloud of dust behind her jeep.

* * *

Tomorrow: the day of the interview.

Commissioner J.D. Hogg promised her that interview, and she didn't know how that man could convince Enos Strate.

Lying on her bed, Catherine Burns read her notebook: during the last week she talked with Hazzard's people and she was now ready for the interview.

Nobody told a single bad word about Enos Strate, just affection and respect for him, and it was really surprising, a positive surprise.

And no bad words from Daisy Duke's former flirts (if she had been a writer, Catherine could have written a romance about Daisy Duke's love affairs), another surprise. In effect, Catherine knew the most part of Daisy's crushes were strangers coming to Hazzard and then simply going away, leaving her behind (and probably it wasn't a case she chose that kind of fleeting affairs), except Darcy McCoy, an Hazzard's citizen, Daisy Duke's only former crush Catherine had the chance to talk to.

"Daisy Duke is the dream of many men here in Hazzard, and I had the opportunity to live this dream, for a while, 'til she started to date just Enos Strate. I can't deny I enjoyed my time spent with her, and I was sad when she forgot about me (the same way she forgot about other men, before me). But, everybody knows about Enos' love for Daisy, and it isn't surprising, at the end, she surrendered to his love; in effect, I've always suspected her crushes and flirts were a sort of strange revenge against him, a way to provoke him and to wake him up, 'cause, crush after crush, Daisy ended up to go back to Enos. After all, he's the only man she's dated periodically along her whole life, though, yeah, dating isn't maybe the right word, since they usually act more as close friends than as lovers. Don't misunderstand me, Mrs. Burns, I'm not saying Daisy Duke is a slapper, not at all, I'm just saying that, sometimes, she has a strange way to show her affection, and I think Enos Strate had a GREAT patience, whereas any other man would've probably been annoyed of her push and pull. Or, maybe, Daisy Duke had a great patience with a so shy man... No, he didn't show any sign of jealousy for Daisy's flirts, and I admire him; I'll admit I think he totally deserves Daisy Duke because his love is stronger than everybody else's love, and he waited for her since the third grade, never betraying that love. And now, sorry, Mrs. Burns, but I have to go, otherwise MY WIFE's goin' to be jealous, especially if she knows I'm talking of Daisy Duke."

Catherine Burns read Darcy's words to her questions about Enos Strate and Daisy Duke: yeah, if she hadn't been a crime reporter, she'd have written a good romance, but she had to write an article about police brutality and the Blue Wall of Silence inside LAPD, and Enos Strate's being so honest, incorruptible and loved would've made her article more powerful.

She rested her notebook and her glasses on the night table near her bed.

Jesse Duke, Bo and Luke Duke: beside Daisy Duke she needed to talk to them in order to have a complete picture of Enos Strate, and she decided to talk to them in the morning, before interviewing Enos Strate.

But she felt it wouldn't have been easy.

"_Please, Mrs. Burns. Leave Hazzard and don't bother Enos any more. He's doing his best to forget what he faced in L.A., and you're torturing him, recalling him everything. I know it's your job, and I respect your job, but you'd understand your job can hurt people, sometimes."_

She recalled Daisy Duke's words and she yawned, turning off the light: probably Dukes didn't want to talk to her, but she was going to have a try.

* * *

"What's goin' on, sugar?"

As soon as she entered Enos' room at the Boarding House, Daisy noticed his tight features: his hair were ruffled, his shirt creased, his tie untied and his eyes red. She walked by his side, sitting with him on his bed and waiting for his answer as her heart was going to explode in her chest.

"Tomorrow… tomorrow… if I won't talk to Mrs. Burns, for that… interview… Mr. Hogg'll fire me," his voice a whisper and his breathe heavy as any word cost him a terrific effort.

It was happening, and Daisy had a deep sigh before to grab his hand, squeezing it, "Enos, you don't want to talk to that woman, do you?"

He shook his head, "No. Too… painful," his voice as he was going to vomit.

"Ok, problem solved. You won't goin' to talk to her."

"But… Mr. Hogg'll fire me, and… I don't know what to do if… just in case of… I need to be a deputy… just in case… helping people just in case… it's my job…" he shook again his head, "I'm confused," and he looked down at the floor.

"Enos, look at me, please," Daisy gently put a finger on his chin, turning his face to her and trying to stay calm despite his strange and confused talk, "It isn't the first time Boss fires you, and you've always had your job back, some way or another. And, you know… I think Boss is bluffing. Just think 'bout it: that journalist is talking with people 'bout you, and now everybody knows 'bout your being injured in the line of duty. You're sort of a hero, now, for people. What do you think people'd do if they knew 'bout Boss firing you with no reason? And, if Boss'll fire you, well, everybody'll be by your side and against Boss, and Boss isn't so stupid to do something like that. He knows what consequences it could bring."

A spark of hope appeared in Enos' eyes, "I didn't… I didn't think 'bout it."

Daisy smiled, satisfied by her idea (her family's idea, to be honest), a plan involving Hazzard's people. "No, I don't think Boss'll fire you, otherwise he'll have an hard time. And," Daisy turned serious, her eyes fixed in Enos' ones, "Enos, if you don't want to talk with that journalist, please, don't do it, no matter how Boss is goin' to try to convince you. Don't surrender to his threats. And, remember, Bo, Luke, uncle Jesse and I won't let you surrender to Boss' dirty tricks and threats, some way or another."

"Ok, thanks, Daisy," he looked away, "thanks."

Like an ocean's wave coming to her with all its strength he was now receding, eddying the sand under her feet and leaving her with the feeling she was going to fall face down. His usual push and pull: it drove her crazy.

Daisy held her breath, finally finding the courage to ask him "Enos, what's wrong? There's something wrong with you, I feel it, and it isn't Boss' threat, not only Boss' threat."

She observed him turning again to her, in his eyes a mix of fear and desire of opening up, and she prayed from the bottom of her heart the desire was going to fight the fear, _"Talk to me, Enos, please. Tell me what's hurting you. Tell me about that day. I'll be strong for you and after opening up you'll feel better. Stop keeping everything for yourself."_

The desire punched the fear, "You know… it's… 'bout that day… that day," but the fear stood up again and it knocked down the desire, "I'm sorry. I don't want to talk 'bout it. Maybe… some day…"

Daisy held her tears as her hand reached his nape, "Oh Enos. I love you so much, sugar, but I don't know how to help you, and it's killing me. I just want to see you happy again. But you won't get over this thing 'til you'll decide to trust me and to talk to me 'bout everything."

Daisy's words froze both fear and desire, waking up his love for her and his need to put his soul in her loving and caring hands, "That… day… you knew what happened from Mrs. Burns… but… there's something journalists don't…"

The windows trembled because of a violent explosion, and Daisy wondered when the storm started: when she left the farm the sun was setting, and it was a sunny day. She didn't remember any cloud in the sky.

She realized something was wrong looking at Enos' face turning pale: it wasn't a thunder, and the smoke's smell entering the room was a wicked manifestation of what's going on in Hazzard's square.

* * *

Walking to the origin of that smoke, Enos felt his knees bending.

Sweat's drops rolled along his spine despite the fall fresh evening.

Smoke from tires' burning: a pungent and nauseating smell surrounded him as he walked to the origin of that smoke, Daisy by his side and Hazzard's people coming out their houses to reach that silent and confused procession.

When he saw the dark smoke mixed with flames coming out Cooter's Garage, he perfectly understood what's going on, and that awareness hit him like a violent punch in his stomach, making him bending forward as everything around him became foggy and distant.

When he fell on his knees some tall men reached him, dragging him away from the crowd.


	23. An invisible puzzle

**AN INVISIBLE PUZZLE**

"Enos"…. A distant voice.

"Enos"… The voice came closer.

"Enos"… "Enos"… more voices, closer and closer.

Enos opened his eyes and he realized he was lying on the ground, cuddled up on his right side, and he didn't remember how it started. Several shoes and legs around him, from his position he could see just shoes and legs, and a pungent smell was irritating his nostrils.

The bomb!

"A bomb! Cooter! Where's Cooter?", he started to panic. Where was Cooter?

"I'm here, buddy, I'm OK. I wasn't inside the garage," Cooter lowered his voice, "fortunately."

Enos sat up, looking at Cooter, "I'm sorry for your garage, Cooter. But… I'm goin' to find the bomber, and I'm goin' to use the price on his head to rebuild your garage," he forced his voice through his burning throat.

"Ok buddy. I know you're goin' to arrest that man, though I don't know what you're talking 'bout. A bomber?" Cooter looked in confusion at Daisy, Bo and Luke, "I was having a walk with Bo and Luke when I heard the explosion. So, I have to thank Bo and Luke, otherwise…" he shook his head, taking off his greasy hat.

"What are you talking 'bout, Enos? It seems you know what's happened, whereas we don't know anything. A bomber? Why are you talking of a bomber?" Luke gently rested a hand on Enos' shoulder, worried for Enos' scared and confused look: Enos looked more shocked than Cooter, and it was pretty strange to Luke.

"The bomber from L.A.! Is the bomber from L.A. here in Hazzard?" Rosco forced his way through the crowd, reaching Enos, Cooter and the Dukes.

"Bomber from L.A.? What are you and Enos talking 'bout?" Bo repeated Luke's and Cooter's previous question.

"A dispatch from the Marion County Sheriff… one week ago…"

Enos closed his eyes as Rosco talked about that dispatch, the sheriff's voice more and more distant. There were too many people around him, and, because of that smell too, he felt like he couldn't breath.

"Oh Enos, why didn't you tell me 'bout it? You should've talked to me 'bout that bomber and how much it's worrying you." Daisy hugged him but he barely felt her arms around him: he was like numb.

"Enos, go and call…" Rosco's voice overlapped Daisy's one, calling him to his duty.

Duty, public trust: people in Hazzard were waiting for him arresting the bomber, waiting for him protecting them. But, was he able to protect them?

"I'm OK, Daisy, don't worry," again, his voice managed to find its way through his aching throat, but his legs were opposing to his order. He was unable to stand up.

He felt his friends' arms around his waist as they helped him to stand up and to walk, heading to Doc Appleby's house, and he didn't even try to fight against their help: he was too tired and too shocked to do or to say anything else but just being carried as an empty bag.

* * *

"What's happening to Enos?" Rosco followed Bo, Luke and Daisy out Doc Appleby's house, "He's… strange, he's strange since he came back from L.A, and that journalist said he was injured. I bet you know everything 'bout it."

Luke turned to Rosco, "Sorry, Rosco, but we can't talk about it. Enos is goin' to tell you everything, if he wants to."

After their brief, but meaningful, talking at Doc Appleby's house, Luke seemed eager to go away, and Catherine Burns approaching was a perfect chance to stop his talking with Rosco, "Rosco, I think you should talk with that journalist. I suppose she wants to ask you something about the bomb."

Luke was right: Catherine Burns approached Rosco, overwhelming him with all her questions about the blast, and, being the Sheriff trapped by the journalist, Luke beckoned to Bo and Daisy to come with him. It was clear he was trying to find a quiet place to talk to his cousins, a place away from everyone, so he headed to a small blind alley.

"So, what's goin' on?" Bo looked carefully at his older cousin, well knowing Luke was thinking of something important, really important.

Luke folded his arms, "Enos was shocked."

Bo shrugged, "And did you bring us here just to tell us what we already know? He couldn't stand up and he looked like he was goin' to burst out crying. He was goin' to faint and we had to drag him away from the crowd. I've never seen him this way," Bo shook his head as Daisy rested her head on his shoulder, bursting out crying. "Don't worry, Daisy, Doc Appleby's taking care of Enos."

"I want to talk to you about the reason why Enos is so shocked. It's about something Rosco said when we were at Doc Appleby's," Luke's eyes were lost in the distance while he remembered their previous talk with Rosco: he was recollecting the pieces of his personal puzzle.

"Rosco just told us about a dispatch: a bomber from L.A. here in Georgia."

"Rosco told us a lot more, Bo," Luke's eyes focused on Bo and Daisy, and he started to gesticulate as he was really composing a puzzle, "Now, Rosco told us, EXACTLY, that one week ago the Marion County's Sheriff sent a dispatch about a bomb in his County, being the bomber responsible of other blasts in L.A., and then in other States."

Bo nodded, and Daisy, her face previously buried against Bo's shoulder, turned to Luke, listening carefully to him.

"The interesting thing is that Rosco told us Enos looked pretty shocked by that dispatch. Do you understand?" Luke nodded, his arms again folded, and he looked into Bo's eyes.

"I think Enos doesn't want to hear about L.A. anymore, and it's why thinking of a bomber from L.A. in Hazzard scared him. He was shocked when he met Mrs. Burns too. I think just naming L.A. hurts him."

By Bo's side Daisy swallowed against the lump in her throat, nodding.

Luke shook his head, "No. It isn't enough. When I asked Rosco to describe me, exactly, how Enos reacted to that dispatch, Rosco told me Enos seemed calm and indifferent, at the beginning, THEN he asked Rosco to read again that dispatch, and AFTER he re-read it he turned pale. So, I think Enos was scared not by knowing about the bomber but about something else in that dispatch. Something, beside the bomber, caught Enos' attention, shocking him."

Bo looked at Daisy and then again at Luke, "Maybe a delayed reaction to the bomber's news."

Luke gently rubbed his chin, thoughtful, "Yeah, maybe you're right, but…", he shook his head, rejecting Bo's idea as his hands started again to compose his invisible puzzle, "… but I think, on the contrary, Enos was scared not about the bomber but about something else in that dispatch."

"The detectives coming from L.A.? Rosco told us 'bout some detectives from L.A. to call in case of the bomber…," Daisy's eyes opened wide, starting to realize Luke's idea.

"You got it, Daisy! I think Enos, reading that dispatch a second time, realized something about those detectives. If the problem had been the bomber, I think Enos would've been shocked when he read the dispatch for the first time."

Bo shook his head, "I don't know, Luke, your idea is a bit… bizarre. You're reading too much into a reaction you didn't even see. Rosco told us Enos turned pale after he read that dispatch a second time, but maybe he's wrong, and Enos was shocked since the beginning."

"I think Luke's right," Daisy squeezed Bo's arm, in fear, "after the blast, when Enos was on the ground, I hugged him and I felt him shivering when Rosco approached, asking him to go and call those detectives. As soon as Rosco told Enos to call the Marion County's Sheriff and to ask for help and for those detectives from L.A., I felt Enos shivering, and I'm sure about it. Maybe it's just because Rosco named L.A… or maybe…"

"Or maybe he doesn't want to meet those detectives," Luke completed Daisy's thought.

"And you think Enos doesn't want to meet those detectives not simply 'cause they're L.A.'s detectives," Bo too started to enter into Luke's idea.

Luke nodded, "Yeah. Do you remember what Mrs. Burns told us the first time we met her? She told us she thinks Enos knows perfectly well who beat him up, but he didn't tell it or it's been covered up."

Daisy glanced at Bo and then she stared at Luke, her eyes wider and wider, "Do you think those detectives could be somehow involved in Enos' beating, Enos knows it and it's why the idea of meeting them shocks him so much?"

Luke scratched his head, "It's just a supposition. Maybe I'm reading too much into things, but we know Enos was beaten by his colleagues, and probably LAPD covered it up; moreover, after he knew about those detectives coming to Georgia from L.A. he looked like if he saw a ghost. Now, coupling these two things, my supposition isn't so bizarre."

"Do you think those detectives beat him up, and he knows it?" after his question Bo held his breath.

"I think he knows those detectives, otherwise he wouldn't have reacted that way as he knew 'bout their staying in Georgia and 'bout the possibility to meet them because of that bomber. I don't know if Enos knows them 'cause they were responsible of his beating, or 'cause they are responsible of the covering up. Or, maybe, he worked with them, in some cases, and now he simply doesn't want to meet anybody recalling him of L.A. But, in order to protect him, we'd think of the worst possibility. You know what I mean, don't you, Bo?"

Bo nodded, a serious and worried look on his face, "You're telling those detectives, IF responsible of Enos' beating, or of the covering up, maybe want him dead."

"WHAT?" Daisy looked at Bo, terrified, "If they had wanted him dead, they'd have killed him as he was still in L.A. Don't you think?" She tried to smile, a forced smile to fight back her fear, "You're saying absurd things, boys, I think you're really reading too much into things."

Luke looked silently at Bo and Bo looked silently at Luke, then Luke turned to Daisy, imitating her forced and pitiful smile, "Yeah, we're reading too much into things. It's because of the blast, and Cooter's garage, and Enos feeling bad. You're right, Daisy. Stop thinking of absurd things and go help Rosco and Enos, and those detectives, to find the bomber. And I think you should check how Enos is goin'. Go to Doc Appleby's house and check if Enos is OK."

Daisy nodded, satisfied by Luke's answer, and she walked away, eager to reach Enos.

"Luke…" Bo stared at Luke, "are you sure 'bout your suspicion?"

"I'm not sure about anything, Bo. I just know that I prefer to think of the worst possibility, take precautions against this worst possibility (though … bizarre) and finally realize I was wrong, instead of underestimate a possible danger and reproaching myself I didn't follow my instinct when it's too late. Someone nearly killed Enos when he was in L.A., as retaliation, and we can't be sure they aren't goin' to complete their revenge, masking it and blaming the bomber the same way they blamed the protesters."

"But, maybe they didn't want to kill him, maybe they wanted to give him a lesson," Bo held back his disgust. He didn't like to talk about it, he didn't want to think of it: the same way Daisy kept on imaging that day in L.A., he too wasn't able to erase those pesky images from his mind.

"Or maybe they thought he was dead, or he was going to die, but he survived, coming back to Hazzard. And now they have a great chance to conclude their… lesson."

"IF those detectives are some way or another involved in Enos' beating. IF!," a forced smile, similar to Daisy's one, surfaced on Bo's face, his way to reject that terrific possibility.

"A big IF, an IF we can't underestimate. So, we're goin' to have a CLOSE watch on Enos and on those detectives. OK?"

Bo's smile faded, and he nodded, accepting that terrific possibility, "OK. Though I sincerely hope you're wrong, this time, totally wrong, cousin."

"I too hope I'm wrong, Bo, you can't image how much I hope I'm wrong. And, now, go and check if Enos is OK. He looked like…," Luke shook his head, sighing, "he looked like he was scared to death."

* * *

MARION COUNTY

"Hazzard County?" James Colt's tone changed from questioning to thoughtful, "Hazzard County," then he turned to his colleague, who's driving the car, "the rat was from Hazzard County, wasn't he? What a strange fate! Are we goin' to meet him again? Or maybe he's in convalescence, and it wouldn't be strange."

Rick Molise's knuckles turned pale as he clenched his fists around the wheel, "Don't use that word, please, James," his voice and his eyes not betraying his emotions as his hands did.

* * *

**THANKS, again, to everybody's reading, and THANKS THANKS to everybody's reviewing. I hope you're liking it and you're enjoying it the same way I'm enjoying writing it :-)) (IF... the chapter of "IFs".. LOL, IF I'm going to write another story, after this one, I promise something more happy and funny).**


	24. Eyes into eyes

**EYES INTO EYES**

Daisy entered Doc Appleby's house, her questioning eyes staring at Doc Appleby as he pointed at the bathroom's door in order to answer her silent question, "He's OK."

Daisy nodded, walking to the bathroom and knocking gently at the door, "Enos, are you OK?"

"I'm OK, don't worry," his muffled voice at the other side of the door seemed fine, and Daisy had a deep sigh: he was waking up from that shocked state, but Daisy couldn't say she was totally relieved, especially after her talk with Bo and Luke.

"Is he OK?" Rosco entered the house and he came closer Daisy.

Daisy turned to him, "Yeah, I hope so."

"May I talk to you, Daisy? Just me and you, I don't want Enos hear us."

Daisy glanced at Rosco, surprised by his whispering and by his serious and mature look, then she looked again at the bathroom's door, "OK Rosco, just few minutes," her voice a whisper answering Rosco's whisper, and she walked with the Sheriff in the small living room near the bathroom.

"What's happened to Enos in L.A.?"

Rosco's direct question and his serious tone surprised her, though she was waiting for that question. She had a deep breath, "Some protesters beat him up during a riot. He stayed in Hospital for a long time. They nearly killed him." Just few words to sum up what happened to Enos in L.A. (the public version, 'cause she couldn't talk to Rosco about the Blue Wall of Silence), few but rough and ravaging words. Uncomfortable because of that talk and because of Rosco's eyes, Daisy folded her arms and she shifted her weight from her right leg on the left one.

Rosco stared at her, silently, and Daisy realized it was really rare to see that look on Rosco's face: the silly and joking Sheriff was turning into a mature and serious man.

"Just… a beating from some protesters? You're lying, Daisy. Enos is shattered, psychologically shattered, because of something else." The silly and joking Sheriff was turning not just in a mature and serious man but also in a clever cop, someone able to read into other people's eyes and gestures.

Daisy's mind tried to find something to say, but Enos, suddenly by her side, helped her.

"I was beaten during some riots, Daisy's right. And the riots started after a case of police brutality: I was there when some colleagues beat up a man, and I testified against them during the trial. It wasn't… pleasant."

Daisy observed Enos rolling down his shirt's sleeves as he talked to Rosco, his hands gently trembling and his eyes staring at the floor. She was surprised to hear Enos talking about it, it was the first time he hinted at the trial and at how it saddened and disappointed him.

"I'm not surprised you testified against cops committing a crime, and I'm sure it wasn't pleasant, for you. I respect your honesty and integrity, Enos, I've always respected you."

Enos looked up at Rosco, his eyes opening wide in surprise, and Daisy wasn't less surprised than Enos: they knew Rosco had some kind of affection for Enos, though he had a strange way to show his affection, but he's never admitted, until then, he respected Enos' honesty (on the contrary, Rosco and Boss usually blamed Enos for his honesty, and they always feared Enos ruined their dirty plans).

"I… I really appreciate it, Sheriff. Thanks," Enos stretched his arm out to Rosco, and the two men shook hands, smiling.

A surprising scene: Daisy smiled, relaxing, grateful to Rosco because of his words, really meaningful words to Enos.

"And now, dipstick," the serious and mature Sheriff turned again into the usual Rosco, "go. A bomber just destroyed Cooter's garage, and if he decides to blow up Hazzard' bank too, Boss'll fire us," Rosco walked to the door as Enos followed him, "I called the Marion County's Sheriff and I asked for those L.A.'s detectives. They've just left Marion County, and, tomorrow, in the morning, they'll be here."

Walking to the door, Rosco didn't turn to Enos so he didn't catch his deputy's reaction, but Daisy did: Enos froze turning pale, he briefly closed his eyes and had a deep sigh, then he followed Rosco outside the door.

If Rosco had seen Enos in that brief moment, would he have understood Enos' worrisome about those detectives? The Sheriff didn't know the truth behind Enos' beating, so he probably wouldn't have found anything strange in Enos' reaction, or he would've misunderstood it with something else. Daisy shook her head, pushing away her sudden idea to talk to Rosco about Enos' beating: Rosco could watch over Enos and those detectives better than her family could (since he was going to work side by side with those detectives), catching strange signals, but it was something too thorny to talk about with Rosco, and, besides, Enos didn't know her family suspected those detectives of being involved in his beating, and it was better not involving anybody else in her family's plans until a confirm of their suppositions.

* * *

Staring at the ceiling of her bedroom Daisy tried to recollect everything happened during that long evening: Enos calling at the farm, her driving to the Boarding House, his shocked and confused look, his nearly confession before the blast.

The blast, that bomber in Hazzard and, with him, those detectives: Daisy rolled on her left side, sighing, in her mind Luke's words.

She was scared, she was terrified; just few days before she was repeating herself that Enos was safe and sound in Hazzard, far away from Los Angeles, everything happened in the big city behind him, finished, solved. She was wrong.

She told herself that Enos wasn's alone, now, as he was in L.A., and her family was going to protect him.

When she finally fell asleep, those detectives visited her in her nightmares.

* * *

Early in the morning, after a night spent tossing and turning in her bed, fighting against her nightmares, Daisy walked to the General Lee with Bo and Luke, "I want to be there before those detectives arrive. I want to see them, and I want to see Enos when he'll meet them."

"Unfortunately we won't be there during the meeting, 'cause we can't come in the Police Department without a good reason," Bo got in the car and turned the ignition key.

"We may come in the Police Department just to ask news about the bomber, pretending we don't know Enos and Rosco are talking with those detectives," Luke sat near Bo whereas Daisy sat on the back seat.

"And Rosco'll tell us to go away 'cause he's busy," Daisy shook her head.

"Even if Rosco'll tell us to go away, we'll managed to catch some signals from Enos about his relationship with those detectives," Bo turned to Daisy, smiling, "Don't worry. We'll find a way to keep a watch on Enos."

While Bo drove silently to the town, Daisy looked outside the window, and, before she realized it (did she fall asleep along the road because of the sleepless night?), the General Lee stopped in Hazzard's square. When the car crossed Cooter's Garage, she glanced, with a sigh, at what remained of it, its walls darkened by flames and smoke and a yellow-black tape blocking its entrance.

As soon as the General stopped in front of the church, in order to have the best view on the Police Department, a blue station wagon stopped at the other side of the square; the Dukes held their breath: a stranger car parking in front of the Police Department meant just one thing.

Two tall men came out the car, a dark haired man and a blond one, in their detectives' classic outfit: the blond man wore a blue jacket on blue trousers and a white shirt, whereas the dark haired man a grey jacket on grey trousers and a white shirt, and, obviously, both of them wore a tie (blue for the blond man and black for the dark haired man).

Daisy felt a shiver along her spine: were those men really involved in Enos' beating? She instinctively hated them.

When the men walked to the Police Department, the Dukes looked into each other eyes.

"Wait just few minutes before to enter, otherwise they could think we were waiting for them," Luke stared at Bo and Daisy, "OK?"

"And a perfect excuse to go to the Police Department could be to bring Enos his breakfast," Bo turned to Daisy, winking, "poor Enos worked all night long because of that bomber, and he needs a piece of cake from the Ice Cream Parlor."

"Great," Daisy smiled, coming out the car and running to the Ice Cream Parlor, relaxing as she realized Catherine Burns wasn't there (that journalist was the last person she desired to meet in that moment), buying some cake for Enos and Rosco (she decided Rosco too deserved a piece of cake) and running back to the General Lee, her heart beating in her chest in anticipation for their first meeting with those detectives and for their first check on Enos' reaction.

Bo and Luke were waiting for her outside the car, and when she reached them, they walked to the Police Department, a brief and knowing look at each other before to enter.

"Hey sugar, here's your breakfast, and your breakfast too, Rosco," Daisy walked closer Enos, showing her open smile and playing her sweet talking, "Uh, sorry, I hope I'm not interrupting anything important," pretending surprise and embarrass for the strangers' presence, she looked at them.

The blonde man looked at her with a curious smile, his blue eyes sliding all over her body in a sly way, and she was glad she was wearing long jeans and one of her shirts with long sleeves instead of one of her more sexy outfits; the dark haired man was looking at her cousins, his dark eyes not showing any emotion, and she wondered if he was really looking at his cousins or if his eyes were simply passing beyond them.

Blue eyes, curious but cold eyes, and dark eyes, impassive and cold eyes: she hated them even more.

"Breakfast? For Enos and me?"

Rosco's voice stopped her analysis of the two men, she turned to the Sheriff and she handed out the bag in her hand to him, "Cake from the Ice Cream Parlor. If I had known you and Enos weren't alone, I'd have brought more cake, for you and…" she turned to the detectives, "for them. I suppose they're those detectives you're talking about, yesterday." It was pointless pretending she didn't know anything about the detectives' arrival, since Rosco told her about it and for sure he remembered it (and Enos too remembered it), so, pretending to be totally in the dark about it would've been suspicious to Rosco and Enos.

"Thank you Daisy, and, yeah, we're busy. Police stuff," Rosco gently took the bag from Daisy's hand, still surprised of her kind gesture, but not suspecting the breakfast was just an excuse to meet those detectives.

"Do you know them, sheriff Coltrane?" the dark haired man stared at Rosco with cold eyes.

"I know everybody in Hazzard, detective Molise. She's Daisy Duke, with her cousins Bo and Luke Duke," Rosco pointed at Bo and Luke, and a shadow of doubt crossed his eyes: Daisy bringing breakfast to Enos was pretty normal, especially along the last month, but Bo and Luke being there with her was pretty strange.

Detective Molise: Daisy, Bo and Luke recorded his name.

"Daisy decided to bring you and Enos something to eat before to go shopping," Luke dampened Rosco's doubts pretending all of them were in town just for shopping, "I suppose you've worked all night long because of the blast," a perfect hiding of their primary mission.

"Did you see the blast or did you just hear 'bout it?" Blue cold eyes stared at Luke.

"We saw the blast," Luke nodded, his blue eyes staring back the detective's eyes, blue against blue, different shades of blue.

"Where were you when the bomb exploded, exactly?" the blonde man sat on Enos' desk.

"We're having a walk with our friend Cooter, he's the Garage's owner. We didn't see anything strange, if it's what you're going to ask me, detective, just a sudden explosion."

"So, you and your cousins were with Cooter. Both of your cousins? Did nobody see anything strange?" the blond man kept on asking his questions (or was it an interrogation?) whereas the dark aired man remained silent.

"No… just Bo and I," Luke showed his discomfort, knowing the detective's upcoming question.

"Daisy Duke was with me, detective Colt, at my… apartment, when we heard the explosion," Enos looked down, sparing detective Colt the question and Luke and Daisy the answer, Enos' first words since they entered the Police Department.

Detective Colt: the Dukes recorded this second name, trying, in addition to their recording, to catch any revealing shade in Enos' voice.

"At deputy Strate's place? Why were you there?" detective Cold smiled, that sly and curious smile Daisy hated since the beginning, as soon as he looked at her.

Daisy blushed furiously, and, again, Enos spared her the answer, "She's my fiancée, detective Colt. We were talking."

"Uh, talking. OK, you were talking," detective Colt's tone was teasing, whereas, by his side, detective Molise snorted.

"I don't want to be impolite, Miss Duke, but I'd ask you and your cousins to leave, now, please. Police business. Thank you for answering our questions, anyway," detective Molise's eyes glanced at Daisy, a brief and impassive glance coupled with an impassive but quite kind voice.

"Thanks for the cake, Dais. See you later, OK?" Enos looked into Daisy's eyes, his eyes sweet but somehow sad (or scared?).

She nodded, squeezing his hand before to go away, her way to let him feel her love and worrisome: Enos' hand was cold and sweaty.


	25. Confusing signals

**CONFUSING SIGNALS**

"Fiancée? When have you become Enos' fiancée, Daisy?" walking to the General Lee after coming out the Police Department, Bo smiled amused, trying to ease Daisy's clear discomfort mixed with anxiety, "I suppose you finally talked to Enos 'bout you're bein' his closest relation 'cause you love him, and now he's officially your fiancé."

Daisy turned to Bo, her arms folded and her features tight, "It isn't the time to talk of me and Enos, Bo_._"

"Sorry, I didn't want to tease you, Daisy," Bo turned serious, "I was just trying to… calm you down, talking of something happy. I know you don't like those detectives," he looked at Luke for a confirm, "and I also have a bad feeling."

Daisy nodded, unfolding her arms and hugging Bo, "Sorry Bo, I didn't mean to be rude. I know you weren't teasing me and Enos, but I don't want to talk about it, actually, 'cause it's something really private, and, with everything happening, Enos and I have still some things to talk 'bout, just Enos and I."

Bo nodded, "OK. A lot of things happened after Enos' coming back from L.A., and it's pretty normal you're trying to come back to your old lives, and it isn't easy, both for you and for him."

"I'm glad you love Enos and Enos loves you, Daisy, but I'm not so glad Enos talked 'bout it in front of those detectives," Luke rested his back against the General Lee, folding his arms and looking at his younger cousins until they turned to him, surprised by his words, "If detective Colt and detective Molise are involved in Enos' beating, and if they want to hurt him, I'm not happy to know they think of Daisy as someone to use in order to hurt Enos. Do you know what I mean? Remember Scanlon," Luke's blue eyes pierced Daisy and Bo, making them shiver.

"Enos would never put Daisy's life in danger," Bo shook his head, "and he isn't stupid. If he had really thought those detectives could hurt him and people close to him, he'd have never said something like that, giving them the opportunity to know the person closest to him."

"You're right, cousin, Enos isn't stupid, but he could be really naïve. Besides, he looked like shocked by those detectives' presence, so I wouldn't be surprised to know he didn't even think he could put Daisy's life in danger when he talked of her as his fiancée."

Bo nodded to Luke's words, "You're right, Enos is pretty reserved about… such things, and, in effect, I was surprised when I heard him presenting Daisy as his fiancée that way. I was more surprised in hearing how he said it than in hearing what he said. He was…," Bo searched for the right word, "… absent. He was speaking 'bout such a private thing, so unnatural for him, but it was like his mind was elsewhere. No blushing, no nervous laugh, no fidgeting. Not Enos. He was so worried and scared to the point he was zoning out."

Daisy recalled Enos' cold and sweaty hand, "Do you really think those detectives are involved in Enos' beating?" Daisy's open wide eyes stared into Luke's thoughtful eyes, knowing what Luke was going to tell her but hoping she saw wrong.

"I don't know, Daisy," Luke shook his head, doubtful, "I think that, some way or another, they're involved in what happened in L.A. I think Enos knows them pretty well, but I don't know how and why he met them. Anyway, I'm not happy they know you're his fiancée," he shook again his head, in frustration, "I didn't like how detective Colt was looking at you."

Daisy shrugged, "A lot of men look at me that way, Luke," she smiled, trying to ease her discomfort and Luke's obvious worrisome and over-protectiveness on her, but his blues eyes froze her, "Ok. Ok. I understand those detectives aren't just – a lot of men – and we should be careful 'til we'll understand their attitude about Enos."

Bo nodded, "Yeah. I observed them. Detective Colt is really rude and unpleasant, whereas detective Molise is more… mysterious, but somehow kind. He looked like annoyed by his colleague's roughness."

"I don't know, Bo. He's more mysterious and… maybe more dangerous. I don't trust very much that kind of man: too much cold… and mysterious, as you said. You can't understand what's goin' on into his mind, and it's dangerous," Luke looked at the Police Department at the other side of the square, his eyes thoughtful.

Detective Colt was the same age of Enos, more or less, whereas detective Molise was older, in his late 40s, if Daisy wasn't wrong in her analysis. She agreed with Luke: detective Colt was rude and teasing, and she hated his way to look at her and to tease Enos about her staying at Enos' apartment, whereas detective Molise, maybe 'cause he was more mature, was more secretive in his emotions and thoughts, and he could be more dangerous than detective Colt, hiding his real attitude about Enos behind his coldness and apparent kindness.

"OK, it's time to go back to the farm and talk to uncle Jesse about what's goin' on," Luke got in the car, "Come on," waiting for his cousins, and Bo and Daisy followed him.

"Hey, wait! Look at the Police Department," Bo pointed at the Police Department's entrance, "something's goin' on."

* * *

In the locker room, Enos washed his face with fresh water, trying to relax.

Those eyes: he couldn't believe those eyes remembered him so much the day he met them at the Hospital. Those detectives' presence sucked him in that day: he could feel the hospital's smell (a mix of disinfectant, food, and… things he wanted to forget about), the annoying sensation of the cast on the skin of his arms and legs, the itching of needles and tubes entering his body, the pain, the voices of nurses and doctors around him, and their touching his exposed and unprotected body. Docs and nurses were kind to him, but it didn't lessen his sense of impotence and his embarrass in being as a bug trapped in a web.

He buried his face in the towel and he tried to erase those images from his mind.

"Are you OK, deputy Strate? You look pale."

Starting, he turned to detective Colt and Molise entering the locker room and closing the door behind them. His usual clumsiness turned his starting into rambling movements of arms and legs and then into an embarrassing falling because of some water on the floor, and the falling turned into a dull thud when his forehead hit the sink.

"Hey, hey, we didn't mean to scare you," detective Colt approached him, helping him to stand up, "You're a bit clumsy, deputy Strate."

His hand pressed on his forehead, Enos stood up, "Thanks," then he stared at the blood on his palm as everything around him started to expand and to contract in a confusing dance.

He nervously washed his hands, tingeing water of red as it flowed in the sink's drain while the room around him kept on its dance.

"Hey, you're bleeding," detective Molise took the towel and pressed it against Enos' forehead, "you have a cut on your right eyebrow, and I think you need some stitches. Is there a Doctor or an Hospital, nearby?"

Detective Molise's voice was calm and somehow kind, and Enos relaxed a bit, remembering where he was and pushing away the memory of another sink in another locker room.

"Where's Sheriff Rosco?" Enos pressed the towel against his forehead, having a step back from detective Molise, his usual pride awakening in him, "I'm OK, now, don't worry, just a small cut."

"When you entered the locker room, your Sheriff asked us if we had breakfast, and then he went out, telling us to wait for him just few minutes. He said we could talk better with some coffee, doughnuts and the cake your fiancée brought you," detective Colt shrugged, then he yawned, "and, in effect, after a night spent driving, I need something to eat, and I need a coffee too."

"So, is there a Doctor, nearby?" Detective Molise repeated his question, "you need some stitches, I reckon three stitches, or four. Our breakfast can wait, beside I remember I was the one driving whereas detective Colt was sleeping," he casted a glance at detective Colt, and detective Colt answered him with a teasing smile, remembering Enos, just for few second, a same teasing between his friends Bo and Luke in their younger years. Just for few seconds the blond detective turned into Bo and the dark haired one into Luke, but that strange and surprising overlapping disappeared so quickly as it appeared.

"Yeah, Doc Appleby, he's nearby, he's the only Doc here," Enos walked to the door, not at all happy to go, again, to Doc Appleby: he could hear, again (the last time just the previous evening), Doc's paternalistic reproaches about his keeping on working despite the need of convalescence.

* * *

"Look. Rosco's coming out, and he's alone," Bo turned to Luke and Daisy, "And it means…"

"…It means Enos is with those detectives, just him and those detectives inside the Police Department," Luke completed Bo's sentence.

"I'm goin' to check everything' OK," Daisy was going to come out the General, ready for the action, any kind of action, but Luke's arm reached her waist, blocking her.

"Wait, wait, Daisy, you can't go in right now, with no excuse. We can't let those detectives know we're keeping a watch on them. If they're planning to hurt Enos, for sure they won't do it inside the Police Department, so openly."

Daisy had a deep sigh and she sat again on the back seat, "I hope you're right, Luke, 'cause, if they dare to lay a finger on Enos, I'm goin' to…," her eyes opened wide as she stared at Enos coming out the Police Department, a white towel pressed on his forehead and detective Colt and Molise walking by his side, "WHAT'S HAPPENED?" She came out the car and she ran to Enos, no other possibility for Luke and Bo that just following her.

"Enos, what's happened?" she came closer him and she gently grabbed his arm, removing the towel from his forehead, "what's that cut?"

"Your fiancé is a bit clumsy, darling," detective Colt smiled, slyly, "He just slipped, hitting his forehead against the sink. He needs some stitches."

"Detective Colt is right," Enos burst out in his brief and funny laugh, "Sometimes I can be really clumsy. I simply slipped, don't worry, Daisy."

Enos' genuine and usual laughing, coupled with Luke's firm grip on her right arm, prevented Daisy to slap detective Colt. And Luke's grip also prevented Daisy to follow Enos and the detectives in their way to Doc Appleby's house.

"Do you think Enos simply slipped?" Bo stared at Luke, rage in his voice, "They won't seriously hurt Enos inside the Police Department, you're right, but they can annoying him. Maybe they tripped him, or they pushed him against the sink, and if they dared to do it…" he clenched his fist.

Luke folded his arms, more calm than Daisy and Bo, "If they had tripped him or hurt him on purpose, he'd have looked more shocked than he was. He answered us in his usual way; he didn't avert his eyes and he didn't stiff. No, I don't think he's lying, he is unable to lie and, when he hides something, it's pretty clear. And yeah, he could be really clumsy, especially if he's nervous, and he's pretty nervous with those detectives around, but he'd have been more nervous if they had hit him."

Daisy looked at her older cousin, glad he caught the things she missed and glad of his self-control. She was so angry to those detectives to miss Enos' signals, and it wasn't the first time her rage prevented her to catch important signals. She hoped Luke read Enos' signals right: Luke, Bo and uncle Jesse knew Enos very well, maybe not better than her but for sure there were no many people in Hazzard knowing Enos better than her family.

* * *

"Oh Gosh, and now what happened, Enos?" Doc Appleby opened the door, looking at Enos and shaking his head.

"Just a small cut, Doctor, but this kind of cuts bleed a lot. He needs some stitches," Detective Molise answered to Doc's question at Enos' place.

Following Doc Appleby to his office, Enos realized, with surprise, he was more calm and relaxed than he thought of; or was he simply dumb because of the confusion in his mind? He lied down on the exam table and he let Doc Appleby do his work: three stitches on his right eyebrow, detective Molise guessed right.

When he came out the office, detective Molise, sitting on the couch, stood up whereas detective Colt was standing near the window, looking outside.

"Everything's OK?"

Enos nodded, answering detective Molise's question, "Three stitches, you guessed right," he smiled and he walked to the door, "Sheriff Rosco is waiting for us at the Police Department, and you're late for your breakfast, I'm sorry."

"Enos, please, be careful. You're so stubborn you haven't even had a single day of rest since you came back from L.A. I can't oblige you to take your time for your convalescence, especially after what happened yesterday evening," Doc Appleby took his glasses off and he pinched his nose between his right thumb and forefinger, "so, please, be careful. I don't want something bad happen to you because of your weakness."

Doc Appleby's referring to L.A. and to Enos' missed convalescence (and so his implied referring to the reason why Enos needed some rest) made Enos shiver, sucking him again in that Hospital's room, those cold eyes watching him, those same cold eyes watching him now.

"Deputy Strate had a hard time in L.A., Doc, you're right," detective Molise took an invisible hair away from his jacket, his cold eyes away both from Enos and Doc Appleby, "but actually, with that bomber out there, we need him to help us. We need the whole local Law, though the whole local Law means just the Sheriff and his Deputy."

Detective Colt, still looking outside the window, finally turned to the other men in the room, "Nothing bad is going to happen to deputy Strate," he smiled, but the light entering the room from the window behind him prevented Enos to read into that smile, "or I hope so. Deputy Strate is strong, anyway, since he survived to what happened to him in L.A. Protesters during a riot can become beasts, there's nothing more scaring than a enraged crowd."

No emotions in detective Colt's voice (no teasing, no rage, no scorn, no pity, no empathy, nothing) and no visible signs on his face in shadow as he stood against the light entering the window behind him, whereas detective Molise kept on taking invisible hair away from his jacket as he wasn't interested in what they were talking about.

Did they suspect the truth behind his beating? What would've happened if he had told them the truth? Would they've done their duty, looking for the culprits inside LAPD, or would they've protected those culprits complying with the Blue Wall of Silence? What's behind those cold eyes? What were they thinking about him when they asked him about the beating? Did they think of him as a rat deserving that beating, no matter who's responsible? Or did they respect him as a colleague injured in the line of duty?

Those questions, again and again, coming to his mind: did he really want an answer?

Really?


	26. Spying and analyzing

**SPYING AND ANALYZING**

"Ok, it's time to go to the farm and talk to uncle Jesse about what's happening. Then, I think we should…" Luke suddenly stopped his talking, looking away from Bo and Daisy, and his cousins followed his eyes, turning to the direction Luke was looking at, "Look at who's coming, Mrs. Burns," he folded his arms and he smiled amused at the journalist, "I suppose she's looking for Rosco because of the bomber, she's walking to the Police Department. It's the only positive thing: that bomber caught Mrs. Burns' attention, so she isn't goin' to annoy Enos any more."

Vain hope: Mrs. Burns noticed them and walk to them instead of entering the Police Department, departing from her path as a metal object attracted by a magnet.

"Wrong supposition, cousin," Bo turned to Luke and then he looked again at the journalist, folding his arms as his older cousin.

"Good morning Luke," Catherine Burns smiled at Luke, then at Bo and Daisy, "and Bo, and Daisy. It seems strange things are happening in Hazzard. I hope your friend Cooter is OK; I suppose he's pretty shocked because of his garage."

"Pretty shocked but alive, and it's the most important thing," Bo smiled, politely, "and I suppose you're goin' to write an article about the bomber. Juicy news, for you."

Catherine Burns shrugged, "I wasn't here for the bomber but for your friend Enos. Now my priority is changed because my chief wants news about that bomber. It doesn't mean I'm not interested anymore in your friend," she sighed, "but actually I have to put aside my article about the Blue Wall of Silence inside LAPD."

A brief look of relief darted between Bo and Luke and then between Luke and Daisy, a quick look Catherine didn't even notice, her eyes pointed at the Police Department.

"Ok, it's time to talk to Sheriff Coltrane," she sighed again and she turned to the Dukes, her eyes opening wide as she noticed three men coming out Doc Appleby's house and walking to the Police Department, "Detective Colt and detective Molise? Are they here because of the bomber? I knew some detectives were arriving, but my colleague didn't tell me their names, and I didn't think they were…"

"Wait wait wait, Mrs Burns," Luke walked in front of Catherine Burns, blocking her view and so catching all her attention, "do you know those detectives?"

The journalist stared at Luke, surprised by his question, "Oh yeah, I know them."

Through their eyes, Bo, Luke and Daisy shared their surprise, then their mutual reproach in not having thought of the most obvious thing (a crime journalist from L.A. probably knew the detectives working on the bombing affecting L.A., and maybe on many other cases in the past the journalist wrote some articles about) and finally their realizing they just found a good source of information about those detectives.

Without any other question, Mrs. Burns kept on talking, "I saw them many times in the past. I'm a crime reporter, so it happened I interviewed them."

Luke, Bo and Daisy nodded, holding their breath and trying to find a good question in order to ask Mrs. Burns a possible role of those detective in the Blue Wall of Silence inside LAPD, but, beside their desire and their need to know, they didn't want to awake Mrs. Burns' attention on the topic they wanted she forgot about.

Again, Mrs. Burns kept on talking without any further request, "Last time I saw them I was in Hospital, looking for information about your friend. They're the detectives responsible of the ongoing investigation about your friend's beating. They talked to him, I think a couple of times, as he stayed in Hospital, whereas I couldn't talk to him nor to them but just to a LAPD's spokesman," she smiled slyly, "What a strange fate. Maybe it's a sort of sign telling me not to forget about the original reason of my staying here. OK, I have to go, now," her eyes following the detectives and Enos inside the Police Department, nearly forgetting the Dukes, she walked to the white building, "Bye."

The Dukes remained silent, their eyes on the journalist and she walked inside the Police Department.

"OK, now it's clear why Enos isn't very happy to see those detectives. They recall him his time in Hospital. And it's also a matter of pride: I know Enos enough to understand he doesn't like the idea those men think of him as a weak and aching cop after a beating," Daisy broke the silence, "I think it's also the reason why he didn't call us when he stayed in Hospital, he didn't want let us see him that way," her voice lowered and she shook her head, "poor Enos."

"You're right, Daisy," Luke nodded, his eyes still at the entrance of the Police Department though there was nobody there to attract his attention, being Mrs. Burns already inside the building, "it's for sure a good reason to explain Enos' reaction to his meeting with those men, but," he turned to Daisy and Bo, "remember what Mrs. Burns told us when we met her for the first time. She told us that, probably, the truth about Enos' beating has been covered up, so, just think of how Enos feels in meeting the detectives who covered up his deposition, blaming the protesters of his beating and protecting the real culprits."

"So, you're still thinking detective Molise and Colt are part of the covering up," Bo had a deep sigh, completing Luke's idea, "and, if they're part of the covering up, they could decide to shut Enos' mouth forever."

"Or maybe someone ABOVE those detectives covered everything up, and they are innocent. I don't know, Bo, I really don't know what to think," Luke shook his head in frustration, "I'm worried for Enos, but, since he doesn't talk about it, since he doesn't tell us exactly what happened, we can just wonder 'bout it."

"If only Enos opened up about what really happened…," Bo looked down at the ground.

"He was opening up," Daisy gently blushed, looking away from her cousins, "yesterday evening, at the Boarding House. He was goin' to confess me the truth about the beating. He said that there's something journalists don't know. I think he was goin' to tell me that protesters didn't beat him. But the blast stopped him," she looked into her cousins' eyes, fighting back her discomfort in that sort of betrayal of Enos' near confession, "He wants to open up. He needs to open up, but he's scared and confused."

Bo rested his hands on Daisy's shoulders, looking into her eyes, "Daisy, you're the only one who can convince Enos to open up. You're the only one who can find a way to know everything happened in L.A. Have a try. If Enos was goin' to open up before the blast, you should have another try."

"How? I'm trying to convince him to talk to me since he came back from L.A., but he's like an insurmountable wall."

Bo folded his arms, smiling, "Daisy. You're a woman, and you're Enos' fiancée. You've always been able to convince Enos to do or not to do something."

"I've always been able to convince Enos to do or not to do just what he already decided to do or not to do, Bo. I wasn't able to convince him to renounce to become a police officer, I wasn't able to convince him to marry me despite the hives, and I wasn't able to convince him not to go to L.A.," Daisy felt her cheeks burning for rage, again that stupid and pointless rage, and for embarrass (she didn't want to talk about it with Bo and Luke but she wasn't able to hide that sudden rage).

Bo looked at Luke, and Luke at Bo, and Daisy caught their discomfort, "Sorry, I talked too much. It's that… I'm worried for Enos, like you, and sometimes I feel like I'm powerless. And Enos can really drive me crazy."

"I didn't know you tried to prevent Enos from becoming a police officer," Luke looked down at the ground, his usual self-confidence fading away, "I suppose you didn't like to see me and Enos fighting because of his decision."

"I hated both you and Enos, yeah," Daisy shook her head," but it's pointless to talk 'bout it, now. Old times, and you and Enos are still close friends, fortunately."

Bo nodded and he tried to brush away that unwelcome talk about their past and their worst and only fight with Enos, going back to his original idea, "Daisy, I think you should go to Enos' place, this evening. I suppose poor Enos will be really tired after a night and a day spent after that bomber. He'll appreciate very much having you at the Boarding House, bringing him a delish dinner. Go and be his fiancée, do what a fiancée does, and he'll opened up," he winked.

"Beauregard Duke", Daisy blushed furiously, punching Bo's arm, "don't talk 'bout… such a thing…," she blushed even more, "… with me!"

"What thing? I'm just telling you to have dinner with Enos at the Boarding House, trying to relax him after a long day of work. Relax him with a good dinner and with a quiet talking, and, maybe, he'll open up. What do you think I was talking 'bout?," Bo smiled amused, "I just want you find a way to push Enos to open up, not to find a way to make him fainting or having again the hives."

Daisy answered Bo with another punch on his arm, "Bo, you're really…," then she burst out laughing, "OK, I think it could work, and, if it won't work, well, at least Enos and I will have a good dinner and some time to talk. And if I'll be only able to relax him," she turned serious, "I'll be satisfied. Some day or another he'll open up, and I want to show him I'm by his side, always. When he'll decide to talk, I'll be there."

Bo nodded, now serious, his amused smile gone, "Yesterday evening Enos called you and asked you to go to the Boarding House, just you. I think it's a signal of his need to talk, and he wants just you. I don't want to hear that tone in his voice, any more, and I don't want to see him like I saw him along the last month."

* * *

"Daisy, please," uncle Jesse took the sugar's cup from Daisy's hands, "don't use sugar for the soup," he winked, "or Enos is goin' to think you're trying to poison him. And Bo, Luke and I don't want to eat a sugared soup."

Daisy blushed a bit and then smiled, "I think I shouldn't cook when I'm worried," she sat down on a chair and she sighed, "It was already enough complicated without that bomber and those detectives," she folded her arms, looking down at the floor and sulking.

Uncle Jesse gently rested a hand on her shoulder, "Don't give up, Daisy. Enos needs you."

"You're right, uncle Jesse, I can't give up," Daisy stood up and she walked near the stove, "Let me help you, I'm OK, now."

"Everything's OK?" entering the kitchen, Luke tried to catch the reason of Daisy's tight features, "Is something wrong?"

Daisy turned to Luke, smiling, "I'm OK. YOU should tell me if something's wrong. You spent the day watching over Enos and those detectives."

Luke sat down, "Those detectives stayed in Rosco's patrol car as he was patrolling, whereas Enos was alone, patrolling different areas. As they talked by C.B. we checked their moves. They stopped their patrolling, now, since the sun is setting, and they're heading to the town."

"Did they find something about the bomber?" uncle Jesse forgot for a while about the dinner, and he stared at Luke.

Luke shook his head, "Too much abandoned barns and stills out there. If the bomber is hiding somewhere out there, it's like looking for a needle in a haystack."

"I hope that bomber simply left Hazzard the same way he left Marion County. Maybe he's already heading to another County. Maybe he left Hazzard soon after the bombing," Bo sat down by Luke's side.

"There's a road block in any road leaving Hazzard. Every Sheriff and Deputy of nearby Counties is stopping anybody who's leaving Hazzard," Luke stood up and he walked near the stove, smelling the dinner's scent, "and it seems that today no stranger left Hazzard, but maybe the bomber left during the night, before the road blocks' preparation, and he's already somewhere outside Hazzard. Or he's still somewhere out there, planning another bombing."

"And since that bomber can be still out there, Daisy, we're goin' to follow you to check you arrive at the Boarding House safe and sound, and then we're goin' to wait for you… and for your mission," Bo smiled.

"OK, the dinner is ready. Time to go to the Boarding House, for sure Enos is hungry," Daisy grabbed the bag containing Enos' dinner, eager to arrive at his apartment.

* * *

"Deputy Strate's fiancée," James Colt smiled slyly as he watched Daisy's jeep stopping in front of the Boarding House, "she's going to stay for the night. Lucky man, Strate."

Lying on the bed, a book in his hands, Rick Molise glanced at his colleague, "Stop spying Strate's woman from the window. Where she's going to stay for the night isn't your business," then he kept on reading the book.

"It's my work. Spy and analyze. I'm simply checking if something strange happens out there," James shrugged, "you're too much serious, Rick. Relax and have some fun."

"I'm relaxing, if you haven't noticed it, yet. I'm reading, and I'm trying to have some peace in MY room in this Hotel," Rick shook his head, resting the book on the night table, "but it seems it's impossible having some peace with you around."

"And with Daisy, her cousins in their orange car," without paying attention to his older colleague's words, James kept on looking outside the window, "you noticed their nosing around, today, didn't you? I don't understand what they're thinking, but I bet they don't like us," he turned to Rick, "do you think they don't like us 'cause they know everything? Did Strate tell them what happened to him? I mean… everything happened to him?"

Rick stared at the ceiling, thoughtful, "They're his best friends, and she's his fiancée, and, yeah, maybe they know everything. So, we should be really careful in order to get deputy Strate's trust despite his friends. Ok? So, stop acting like a jackass, please," he took again the book on the night table and he opened it, "and, now, let me relax a bit. Go to your room and do whatever you want. Thanks."

"Mr. Kindness, as usual. OK, good night," James walked to the door, he opened it and he looked outside, stealthy, "I hope that nosy journalist isn't around. She stays in this Hotel, and I don't want to meet her on the way of my room. Anyway," he turned to Rick, winking, "she's pretty cute, more or less the same age of you. What do you think of a good…" but a simple look from Rick blocked him, "OK, OK, stop acting like a jackass, there's no need to repeat it. Bye," and he left.

In his room, finally alone, Rick Molise got up and walked to the window, looking at Daisy Duke as she talked with her cousins before to enter the Boarding House with a bag in her hands.


End file.
